Navy Cops and Bird Kids
by RandomnessQueen1
Summary: After a fight, the flock is hurt. They need help- badly.  But can they trust NCIS? Minor Fax, Tiva, possibly some McAbby.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Flying and Fights

**A/N: Hi everybody! This is my first fanfic, so I'm a little nervous, but here goes! Hope you enjoy it.**

**This takes place after the third MR book, except the Erasers and Flyboys are still around. Ari is still dead, however.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, NCIS, or any of the characters in them. I'm just an innocent fan. Now, on with the show!**

Max:

Wind blowing my hair out behind me, fresh cold air shoving its way into my face, wings beating powerfully, flock at my side… yes. There is nothing, _nothing_, like flying.

Nudge was chattering along happily to no one in particular, Iggy and the Gasman were discussing some sort of explosive, Angel was smoothing Celeste's fur (a pointless task, as the wind just messed it up as soon as she finished, but whatever), and Fang was…being Fang.

And as for me? I was content. We had been able to snag a nap and a decent meal in Richmond, so we were well fed and rested. Best of all, there was no sign of Erasers, Flyboys…

"Hey, what's that?" Gazzy asked, pointing at a dark shape on the horizon.

Speak of the devil.

"Angel, see if they have minds that you can work with," I dictated. After mentally calculating the distance between them and us, I decided that we might be able to outfly them. "Anything, Angel?"

"They've got minds I can get into, but I only feel about fifteen Erasers. That group looks a lot bigger than that."

"Then let's get out of here," I instructed.

With a few beats of my wings, I was zipping along, slowly enough that the kids could keep up, but fast enough to get far, far away from the Erasers and Flyboys.

I thought we were doing great, when another group of mutants and robots came into my field of vision from the opposite direction. I stopped dead in my tracks (well, as much as you can stop dead in your tracks when you're thousands of feet in the air).

"Okay, new plan," I said.

"Does this plan involve bombs?" Gazzy asked excitedly. Iggy looked enthusiastic at the prospect of explosives.

I closed my eyes briefly. Gazzy apparently took that as a yes, shouted "Yeah!" and exchanged a high- five with Iggy.

"Do I want to know how much gunpowder you have on you right now?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," the two of them instantly said.

"Max. Plan." Ah, Fang. Such eloquence.

"All right. When they get closer, Angel, do your mind control thing on the ones with brains. For the rest of them, you should-"

"Blow 'em up?" Gasman suggested.

"Gaz, get your brain off the bombs and focus!" I sighed. "Just fight however you can. A few _small, carefully placed_ explosives are fine," I told them. "Just don't get carried away and blow us all up." They nodded eagerly.

I pointed to the group on my left. "Those guys are closer. If we fight the groups on at a time, we stand a better chance. Let's fly toward them."

The flock obeyed me, and we set off in the direction I had pointed. Inside, my mind was whirling. How had the School tracked us down? Had the Erasers become better aerial fighters? We would always be better in the air than they would, but, by Angel's counts, we were way outnumbered. What if…

_Stop_, I told myself. _You've been outnumbered before. You can do this._

Suddenly, there were flying robots everywhere. The Erasers dotted the field, but there were about three times as many Flyboys as Erasers, which meant less for Angel to be able to control.

Cussing under my breath, I swung into action, roundhouse kicking a Flyboy. I then grabbed its head, twisted it, and kicked the back of his neck. Its head all but popped off, and it stopped flying and started falling.

Okay, that was cool.

By the time I had disabled my third Flyboy, Angel had eliminated all the Erasers, leaving about three Flyboys, which we took care of quickly.

"Okay, let's skedaddle," I said, brushing a bit of fur out of Nudge's hair. "I wouldn't mind if we could avoid the other group altogether." We took off in the direction our now pulverized opponents had come from.

Apparently, I had misjudged something, because the next thing I heard was Nudge crying out and Iggy cussing loudly.

I spun around, and an Eraser was practically on top of me. Thankfully, these guys were pretty bad fliers, let alone fighters, and I dropped him pretty quickly.

A Flyboy managed to land a nasty punch to my face, and I felt my nose break. Fighting back some choice swear words, I decapitated him in the same way I had the others. Quickly, I did a check on the flock. Gazzy and Iggy were fiddling with some sort of explosive (Mental note to self: Have chat with Iggy re: corrupting minors). Nudge and Fang were kicking ass against three Flyboys as once, and Angel was…falling.

An Eraser must have missed her mental memo, and he punched her in the head hard enough to knock her unconscious. Limply, her wings drooped, and she sank like a stone. Fang tucked his wings and went after her.

BOOM!

Iggy and the Gasman had apparently worked out the kinks in their bomb, and about twenty-five Flyboys fell out of sight.

Within a few minutes, we had disposed of all of the Flyboys and Erasers. Blood from my broken nose was flowing into my eyes. The Gasman didn't look injured, but was pretty scared. Nudge's arm was bleeding, and Iggy looked like every wing beat hurt.

"We've got to get down," I said, beginning my descent.

"Max?" Gazzy asked, tugging on my arm. "Do you think Angel's okay?"

Angel and Fang! Amazingly, I had forgotten all about them. "I'm sure she is," I responded, trying not to worry him. He forced a smile, and I ruffled his hair as we flew down.

When we reached the ground, Fang was holding an unconscious Angel. Like Gazzy, he didn't seem to be hurt too badly.

"Look, we gotta get out of here," I announced. "If people from the School come to clean up, I don't want to be here. Can everybody walk?"

Looking around our little circle of mutants, I saw three nods-Fang, Nudge, and Gazzy. Iggy was shaking his head and biting his lip.

"What's wrong, Ig?"

"I got kicked in the back. Hard. My whole right side… it feels like it's out of alignment. I'm not sure how I even managed to stay in the air as long as I did."

"Fang, if I carry Angel, can you help Iggy?" He nodded, shifted Angel into my arms, and moved under Iggy's arm as a human crutch.

Carrying Angel, I led the way along back roads toward a patch of trees. At least, I thought they were trees. It's really hard to see with blood in your eyes.

Once we were hidden beneath the trees, I turned around to face the flock. I noticed Gazzy was helping Nudge apply pressure to her arm, which was bleeding horribly.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She nodded, grimaced, and then shook her head.

Tearing a gauze pad out of the first aid kit I had in my backpack, I mentally berated myself. What kind of leader was I if I couldn't notice when one of my flock was injured?

Focus, Max.

I carefully wiped some of the blood away, revealing four long claw marks, and gasped. The cuts were very deep, one- I fought to keep from throwing up- even down to the bone.

Nudge, meanwhile, wasn't doing much of anything. She had lost a lot of blood, and the wound was still oozing. "Here, hold this on your arm," I said, putting the gauze on her arm. Gazzy held the gauze in place with one hand as he hugged her with his other. "Thanks, Gazzy."

As there was nothing more I could do for Nudge at this point, I turned my attention to the others. Iggy had his shirt off, and Fang was examining his back. He caught my gaze as I approached. He didn't look optimistic and gestured for me to come take a look.

His left side was perfectly normal, but his right made me gasp in horror. The joint where his wing met his back was slightly off, the bones just the tiniest bit offset. That little bit was obviously enough to cause some serious damage, though. Iggy was obviously in pain. Looking closer, I realized that a few of his vertebrae had shifted to the left. The ones surrounding the displaced bones looked strained, as if they were trying to pull the injured ones back into place.

I described to Iggy what had happened, and there was silence. Then, he asked, "Do you think I'll be able to fly again?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "If we could get you to my mom, she might be able to tell you more, but the problem with that would be-"

"Getting me to your mom," he finished. I nodded.

"How's everybody else?" Fang asked.

"Nudge got clawed pretty deep by an Eraser, she's losing blood fast. I haven't checked on Angel yet." I half- turned around. She was still unconscious, and hadn't moved since I laid her down.

Iggy, who, using his hands to manually bend his wings, had managed to retract the wings, and he pulled on his shirt, wincing as he raised his right arm. "How about you, Max?"

"What?"

"Are you hurt? I smell blood."

"Oh." I reached up and gently felt my nose. The bleeding had slowed considerably, if not completely stopped. "I'm fine. Just a bloody nose."

Fang stepped over to my pack and grabbed another gauze pad. Gently escorting me aside, he carefully daubed at my nose letting the gauze absorb my blood.

"Is your eye all right?" he asked. "It's twitching."

"There's blood in it," I told him. "It's fine."

He didn't look convinced, and reached for my face again with the gauze. His left hand carefully but firmly held my eye open, while his right gently cleaned as much of the blood from around my eye as possible, when we heard a twig snap.

**A/N: Did you like it? Review, please oh please oh please!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Navy Cops, Meet Bird Kids

**A/N: Hi again! I was thrilled that so many people liked my story. I feel so special! Some people did ask, "Where's the NCIS aspect of it?" Here's your answer!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, Maximum Ride, or any of the characters.**

Ziva:

"What a spot," Tony remarked as we trekked along a woody trail.

"It isn't a very cheerful forest, is it?" Ducky added from behind us. A moment later, when we found the body, Ducky commented, "Well, it certainly wasn't very cheerful for this poor fellow." He knelt to examine the corpse. The victim's face was almost completely obscured by the blood.

Tony and I spread out, searching for any clues. "Found a casing," Tony announced, snapping a picture and then putting the shell in a specimen jar.

"Blood trail over here," I called, spotting bright red droplets on a small offshoot of the trail. Ducky rose to follow me.

"That's odd," he said. "The body didn't appear to have been moved."

"Maybe the killer was wounded," I suggested.

We followed the blood for a while before hearing some voices, too low to make out any words.

I tensed. My right hand flew to my gun, while I motioned for Ducky to stay back with my left. I slowly moved forward in the direction of the voices.

I finally entered a small clearing, where six children, the oldest no more than fifteen or sixteen, were gathered.

Closest to me was a blond boy of about eight or nine. Next to him was an African-American girl of about twelve. She was barely conscious, and he was holding a blood- soaked bandage to her arm. Behind them was an unconscious six-year-old girl who looked enough like the blond boy for them to have been brother and sister. A strawberry blond boy of about fourteen sat alone and was the only one not staring at me. A few yards away from him were an olive-skinned boy and a dirty-blond girl with a badly bleeding nose. Both were about fifteen.

The youngest boy was trying to wake the injured girl. "Nudge, come on, you gotta wake up…" I heard him saying. At the same time, he was trying to drag her away from me. The dark teen came up behind the two of them, and whispered something to the boy, who skittered away to the oldest girl. She wrapped her arm around him protectively. The older boy picked Nudge up in his arms and began to retreat.

"NCIS, freeze!" I called, gun drawn.

"Max?" the strawberry-blond said nervously. The oldest girl led the young boy to him, and they began conversing quietly.

I realized that, to a bunch of scared kids who were probably runaways, I looked like a threat. I put my gun away and showed my badge. "I'm not going to hurt you…"

"Ziva?" Ducky's voice came from behind me. "Is everything all right?" He came to stand beside me, took it all in, and then began moving toward the unconscious girl.

"Don't touch her!" the oldest girl snarled.

"It's all right, I'm a doctor," Ducky explained, trying to pacify her. The blond boy tugged on her arm and whispered something. She whispered something back without taking her eyes off Ducky and me.

Meanwhile, the dark boy had retreated to the limp blond girl. With Nudge still in his arms, he knelt and started trying to lift the small girl.

"Don't!" Ducky exclaimed. "If she's injured, you shouldn't move her."

The teenager paused and glanced back at the oldest girl. Her lips hardened.

Just then, Nudge spoke. "Fang?" she said blurrily. "What's-"

"Shh," he said, stroking her good arm. "It's gonna be okay."

"My arm hurts."

"I know. Hang on." He turned back to the teenage girl. "Max."

She paused. "Fang. Take the others, U and A. I'll stay here with Nudge. We'll find each other once we get away"

"Nobody's going anywhere," I interjected.

"Seriously? Don't try to tell me what to do. It never ends well," Max snapped.

"Gazzy can't carry Angel very far," Fang warned.

"Fine, then leave her. We'll meet up at the same place we were before."

Just then, Gibbs and Tony entered the clearing, both with guns drawn.

"Fang, go!" Max ordered. "Now!"

"Bite me. I'm not leaving you again!"

"Not a question, Fang!"

"Too bad!"

Suddenly, Max leap forward. In a flash, she had pulled Fang away from Nudge and sent him backwards. "Go!"

"Freeze," Gibbs said authoritatively, and I noticed Tony slipping away into the trees.

I resumed my negotiations. "We can help you. We're not going to hurt you." Fang slipped back, putting his hand on the blond boy's shoulder, and leading the other teen backwards into the trees. Tony had come up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, gun in hand. As Fang spun around- faster than I would have thought humanly possible- the redheaded teen fell to the ground with a small cry of pain. The blond boy knelt beside him, putting himself between Tony and the older boy.

Meanwhile, Tony had his gun pointed at Fang. "Freeze!"

"U and A?" the little boy asked.

"Not here!"Fang hissed.

"You're hurt," Gibbs said, addressing Max and Nudge. "We can help you." It was obvious that she didn't believe him.

"Who's _we_?" the other teen asked. He was still on the ground and hadn't moved since he had fallen.

"My name is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs told them. "This is Special Agents Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo, and our Medical Examiner Dr. Donald Mallard."

"What's NCIS?"Max asked.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," I answered. Seeing Max's blank look, I explained, "A federal agency who investigates crimes involving Naval and Marine officers and their families."

"Then what do you want with us?" Max inquired, puzzled.

"We just want to help."

Max snorted. "Yeah, right."

Slowly and deliberately, Fang moved away from Tony and towards Max. He knelt by her side and touched her shoulder gently. With his other hand, he traced a scar along his chest, following it even as it went under his shirt.

"You trusted someone before," he said.

"Once," she clarified.

"More than that," he added, as he took her hand, flipped it palm-side up, and tapped a small scar on her wrist. "And this." He tapped the back of her shoulder. "Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. I remember trusting Jeb, and him turning on us. I remember trusting Anne, and her betraying us. I remember trusting you, and you _walking away._

"I remember having no other choice," he countered. "We've got no other choice now."

"_There's always another choice,_" she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah? Like what?" he challenged. "Nudge will _die_ if we don't do something. Every minute we sit here, she's fading more and more."

"No kidding?" she said sarcastically. "But do you really want to risk it?"

"We can handle it. We can always leave."

"What if we can't?"

"We'll find a way. We always do."

"Let us help you," I asked again.

Max looked at me, looked at Nudge, looked at Fang, and then looked to us again. "All right," she conceded.

Calmly but efficiently, Ducky stepped forward, grabbed a gauze pad, antiseptic, and a bandage from a nearby first aid kit, and began cleaning the wound in Nudge's arm. Nudge started to pull away from him, but Max held her still. "It's okay, Nudge." The preteen relaxed at the sound of Max's voice.

"Oh my…" Ducky's voice trailed off as he wiped away enough blood to get a good look at Nudge's injury. I glanced over, and was instantly horrified. There were four deep, large claw marks in the girl's arm. It looked like some sort of animal had gotten at her. "What on earth did this?" Ducky asked. None of the children answered. "I ask because certain animals are more prone to rabies and other diseases. If it was a diseased animal-"

"It wasn't," Max clarified.

"How do you know?" Ducky asked.

"It didn't have rabies or anything like that. I'm positive."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just can."

Ducky didn't push the topic. After wrapping Nudge's arm in the bandage, he retreated to Gibbs and me and whispered, "She's lost a lot of blood. I would recommend hospitalization-"

"No, Duck." Gibbs was adamant. "Other options?"

"Well, she needs blood. I suppose we could get some from one of the other children-"

"I'll do it," Max volunteered. We stared. How had she even heard us?

"Are you the same blood type?" Ducky, always practical, asked.

"I'm type O positive. We all are."

"I'd prefer to do the transfusion in my lab, if possible," Ducky added.

Gibbs nodded. "Let's go."

"Wait," Max said. "I don't remember agreeing to go anywhere…"

"Max…" Ducky began, but Fang cut him off.

"Max! Do you want Nudge to die?"

"How do I know we can trust them?"

"You don't. But you trust me, right?"

Max nodded.

"Then trust me. Trust my instincts. Let me make this call."

Max hesitated. Finally, through gritted teeth, she muttered, "Fine."

**Did you like it? Review, review, review! Also, if you have anything you want (or don't want) to happen, you can tell me via reviews or PM. Please give me some feedback. I love feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3: Blood and a Battle

**A/N: Hi again! Sorry it took so long to update, I've been really busy. Thank you all sooo much for the reviews! It makes me so excited when I open up my email and see all sorts of alerts from this site telling me I have reviews. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Nudge:

I was really dizzy, and my arm hurt really bad, so I didn't protest when Max agreed to go with the NCIS people.

The group had come in two vehicles: a small car and a large van with the letters NCIS written on the side. Agent Gibbs told us there was one seat in the back of the car.

"We'd rather stay together," Max said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Gibbs shrugged, opened the back of the van, and then stepped to the side. I felt Gazzy pulling me off to the side, and I turned my head to see why. Dr. Mallard and a young man I had heard him call Mr. Palmer were holding a stretcher with a dead body on it. His face was covered in blood, but he still looked really familiar.

"Who is that?" Max asked.

Gibbs arched an eyebrow. "You know him?"

"If I did, would I be asking?"

For that, Gibbs had no response. "Hop in," he told us.

We each clambered up, passing Angel's unconscious body up into the van as well. As the doors began to close, the old instincts began to kick in. We were in an enclosed space, being transported to an unknown location where the security would probably be even tighter. I met Max's eyes and knew what she was thinking. Iggy and I were hurt badly, Angel was out cold, and these people didn't look, talk, or act like whitecoats. At this point, our best option was to go with the flow.

"Nudge, can you feel anything from the stuff in here?" Max asked. I began touching the equipment in the van, trying to feel anything about these people.

"Sort of," I answered. "I can feel something, but it's really weak, like a radio with bad reception. They don't feel evil, but I do feel a lot of death. Not sadness, or guilt or anything, just death."

"They're feds. They probably investigate a lot of murders and stuff," Iggy mentioned.

Angel moaned and began to stir. We all gathered around her. Gazzy knelt by her side and held her hand, stroking it gently. Her eyes fluttered open. "Gaz-zy?" she said blurrily.

"It's okay, Angel. I'm right here," he murmured.

She was silent for a few seconds. "You're reading my mind, aren't you?" Max chided. Angel nodded sheepishly. "You've really gotta stop doing that, sweetheart."

"Sorry, Max. It's just faster than talking," she said apologetically.

"How much did you read?"

"All of it," she admitted. "I also looked through the people driving the van. They're not whitecoats, but…I'm not sure about the ones in the other car. The younger one- the one driving this car- is scared of Gibbs. He has a lot of respect for Dr. Mallard, though."

"But you're not feeling out-and-out evil vibes?" Max clarified.

"Nope." Her big blue eyes stared up at us. "Hey, Fang? What's a-"

"Let's keep this G-rated, 'kay, Angel?" he cut her off. "You go poking around in my mind, there's no telling what you'll find." She grinned.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. I kept trying to feel the stuff in the van to get more information, but I soon had to stop, as I was tired, dizzy, and not getting anywhere. After about ten minutes, we felt the van pull to a stop. A second later, the back doors of the van swung open. Instinctively, we all pulled away from Dr. Mallard and Palmer, who had opened the doors.

"We need the body," Dr. Mallard told us. Max stepped forward and carefully slid the stretcher out of the van. I was still trying to remember where I had seen the dead man.

As Palmer wheeled the body away, we began climbing down. As Max lifted Angel down (despite her protests that she was fine), Dr. Mallard knelt down to be on her level. "Hello, I'm Dr. Mallard. You can call me Ducky," he told her. Addressing all of us, he added, "I don't believe I caught all of your names?"

Automatically, we all looked to Max- real names or fake? She swallowed hard. "I'm Anna," she said. We began coming up with fake names, until Ziva, coming from behind us, said, "No, you're not."

"What?" Max said, sounding perfectly confused.

"You're Max," she said confidently. "He-" she gestured to Fang, "-called you Max. He's Fang, and the injured girl is Nudge."

Max sighed. "Fine. This is Iggy, Gazzy, and Angel."

"Last names?" Ziva asked.

"Ride. All of us." Max answered.

"You're… related?" Ducky asked.

"Adoptive siblings," Max specified.

"Ah," Ducky said. "Well, my equipment is in the basement. If you would follow me…." We complied, Gazzy still supporting me, and Fang doing the same for Iggy. I noticed Ziva, who was following us, was studying us intently.

After going through security and a nerve-wracking elevator ride, we entered a spacious lab-type room. "Welcome to Autopsy," Ducky announced.

_Autopsy? _ I wondered. _Isn't that where they cut up dead bodies?_

I sat down on one of the examining tables. Ducky carefully unwrapped the bandages around my arm, got a needle and surgical thread from a drawer, and began stitching up my arm. The process hurt, but I had been through much worse, so I bit my lip until he was finished. Max sat on the other end of the table, watching me, the others, and Ziva at the same time.

After Ducky had finished stitching my arm, he asked Max, "I'd like to give you a blood-type test, just to make sure-"

"Not necessary," she insisted. "We're all type O positive."

"Are you sure?" Ducky asked.

"Positive. Pun intended."

Ducky chuckled. "Well, then…" He crossed the room, picked us a syringe, and began the process of extracting blood from Max and inserting it into me. I was scared, but I knew Max was putting up with the same, so I held still and watched her out of the corner of my eye. If I hadn't known her better, I would have thought she was scared, too. I cast that thought away immediately. Max the invincible- scared? How much blood had I lost?

After Ducky checked Angel for a concussion (she was fine), Max said, "Well, thanks, but we should be going." Angel and I stood up, Fang inconspicuously slid under Iggy's arm as a human crutch again, and we began heading toward the door. Ziva stopped us.

"We need to ask you some questions," she said.

"Uh, no, that's not gonna happen," Max declared.

Ziva stepped forward, and Max flew into action. Gently but firmly shoving past Angel and I, she swung her leg out, aiming for the middle of Ziva's torso. The woman swiftly dodged and pulled out her gun. Instinctively, we all leapt backward. Max grabbed a scalpel from a nearby tray. The rest of us gathered behind her as she wielded it.

"Drop it," Ziva ordered.

"You drop it," Max returned.

I ran through scenarios in my head. We had them outnumbered, but Iggy could barely walk, I was still a little dizzy (and I imagined Max was, too, after donating blood to me), and Ziva could call for backup at any time. Plus, she had a gun. My eyes searched the room for a weapon: trays, cupboards, examining tables….

_That's it, _I though. I made eye contact with Angel, and directed my thoughts at her with a message: _Tell Max._

She gave a barely perceptible nod, and focused her gaze on Max.

In one fluid motion, she handed the scalpel off to Gazzy, lunged forward, and shoved the table closest to us at them. It hit the tray next to it, and instruments went flying everywhere. The adults ducked and shielded their faces. We ran for the door.

Fang was helping Iggy stumble along as best he could, but the going was slow. I spotted a gurney in the corner, shouted "Fang!" and pointed. He nodded to say he got my message, grabbed the gurney, and loaded Iggy onto it. He steered the gurney faster than he drove, which was saying something. Guiding Iggy around the stuff on the ground, we made our way outside, where there was an elevator and a set of stairs. Max, Gazzy, and Angel were already on their way up, but Max saw us, stopped, and turned back. Brushing past me, she grabbed the other side of the gurney, and she and Fang hoisted Iggy up and began climbing. Behind us, I could hear Ziva racing for the stairs. Gazzy and Angel were already far away, but we were moving much more slowly than Ziva. Our head start had helped, but it wasn't enough.

Suddenly, my vision blurred, and I stumbled, falling under Iggy's gurney and tumbling down the stairs.

"Nudge! I heard Max scream.

"Go with the others! I'll be fine!" I tried to choke out, but I wasn't sure if the words were coming. I was so dizzy; all I could do was let gravity take me down the stairs.

After a few seconds, my mind finally processed, _I've stopped moving._ I half- noticed Ziva handcuffing me to a table. I tried to resist, but my head hurt, and she was too strong. I felt myself drifting off into a haze. I did my best to stay conscious but couldn't….

**A/N: So, what did you think? Also, which director do you want to be in office? I was going to do Vance, because I know him best, but someone wanted me to do Jenny, who I don't know as well, so she will probably be really OOC. Also, I dislike Jenny/Gibbs romance, so even if I do put her in, Jibbs will probably play a very minor part, if I even include it. Opinions?**


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4: All Questions, No Answers

**A/N: Hello there! I don't have much to say today, so just enjoy the story. Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Tony:

As Gibbs was parking the car, I got a call from Ziva. "Tony, the kids are on the run. I got Nudge, but the others are on their way up."

"Got it," I said, hanging up.

After relaying the message to Gibbs and McGee, we ran to the building. The two little kids dashed out as we were running in. "DiNozzo, go," Gibbs ordered. I pursued them as Gibbs and McGee went down after the others.

The boy- Gazzy, I thought I had heard someone call him- had a scalpel in his hand as they ran. They dashed into a cluster of bushes. I followed them silently. After a minute, Gazzy tried to keep running, but the girl hesitated.

"Come on, Angel," he said forcefully, trying to pull her along. She shook her head and began speaking. I couldn't make out the words at first, but as I approached, I could hear a little.

"…Nudge's unconscious downstairs, there's no way we could get to her. Gazzy, if we go, the rest of the flock's gone." _Flock? Why would they call themselves a flock?_ I wondered.

"They'll be okay," he argued. "They have Max."

"And what about us?" she challenged. "How are we gonna survive without Max and Fang?" He didn't look convinced, so she sighed and continued. "When the whitecoats took me to California, you guys risked everything to get me. I'm doing the same thing."

"That was different!" he hissed. "They knew-"

In my attempts to get closer, I stepped on a stick, which broke with a _crack! _under my weight. They spun around, the scalpel still in Gazzy's hand.

"Angel, U and A on three," he instructed, tensing slightly.

"Not here, you idiot!" she screeched. "He'll see."

_See what?_ I nearly asked, but Gazzy spoke before I could ask.

"They could be working for the whitecoats," he insisted.

"I would know if they were, Gazzy. They're not." Oddly, he didn't question this.

Suddenly, she gasped. "What is it?" he asked urgently.

"They got Max and Fang," she told him. "It's over."

_How could she know that? This must be a trick,_ I thought, just as my cell phone rang. Without taking my eyes off the kids, I answered it. It was Ziva. "We got the oldest three. Status on the younger ones?"

"In progress," I answered, aghast. I flipped the phone shut. "How did you know that?" I asked her.

"I'm psychic," she answered wryly. I rolled my eyes. Her brother snorted.

Inside, Gazzy, Angel, and I met up with Max, Fang, Iggy, Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva, who was holding an unconscious Nudge. All the children were handcuffed. Gibbs whispered to me, "Take 'em to interrogation. If you have to, you can put more than one in each room, but I want Max alone. Then call child services. See if Abby can get anything off fingerprints, facial recognition, DNA, anything. I want to know who these kids are." I nodded, and then began leading the whole group to interrogation.

When we got there, we discovered that there were only three open rooms. Fang and Iggy refused to be separated, so they went into one room; Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel entered another, and Max went alone into the third. As we left, Ziva mentioned something odd. "Nudge was very light. Do you think she could be malnourished?"

"If they were living on the streets, sure," I agreed.

"How did they get those injuries, though?" McGee asked. "A street fight could explain some of the scrapes, but Nudge's arm? That looked like a bear or a wolf or something got at her."

"I have seen a weapon that fits over the hand like a glove and has sharp talons on the fingers," Ziva offered.

"She can't be more than twelve or thirteen. Who would do something like that to a kid?" I wondered aloud.

"Did you notice Iggy?" Ziva asked. "He never once looked anyone in the eye, not even his friends. Also, he was leaning on Fang the whole time. He could barely move."

"That's not all," I mentioned, repeating the conversation between Gazzy and Angel that I had overheard outside.

"They called their group a flock? Like a flock of birds?" McGee asked. "And who are the whitecoats?"

"Whoever they are, these kids are scared of them," I added. "They thought we were working for them. Angel mentioned them taking her to California."

"Like, kidnapping?"

"I guess. She said they risked everything to save her."

I left to call child services, not entirely sure what I should tell them.

Somehow, we all ended up in the bullpen at the same time. I shared Angel and Gazzy's conversation with Gibbs. "McGee," he began.

"Search for the term whitecoat. Focus the search on California and contact agents on the west coast to see if they recognize the term," McGee finished.

Gibbs nodded his approval. "DiNozzo, Ziva, see what you can find on our actual case." With that, he headed for the coffee machine.

We worked in silence until the people from child services came. Leading them to interrogation, we split up: Ziva went with the younger kids, McGee with the two boys, and Gibbs and I with Max.

Inside, Gibbs introduced the advocate, Alice, who sat down next to Max. "What's your name?" she asked, trying to be all friendly.

"Max." She sounded bored.

"Is that short for anything? Maxine?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"If I don't know my own name, then I'm in serious trouble."

"What's your last name?"

"Ride."

"Really?" Gibbs asked. "Because I looked up that name, and guess what? There are no girls that have been born in the past 20 years named Max Ride."

She shrugged. "I don't know what your database says, my name is Max Ride."

"Max, we can't help you unless you let us," Alice said gently.

"Well, I don't really need your help," she responded. "Look, I appreciate what you've done for Nudge, but we're all fine and dandy now, so we'd be glad to be out of your hair."

"We can't release you to anyone but your legal guardian," she explained. "Can you tell us who your parents are?"

She hesitated. "My mom is Valencia Martinez."

"If your mom's name is Martinez, why'd you tell us your last name was Ride?" I asked.

"It's my dad's name," she said.

"What's his first name?" Gibbs asked, pulling out a notepad.

"He doesn't live with us," Max answered.

"That wasn't what he asked you," I responded.

"He and Mom don't live together. I hardly know him. I don't even know if he'd recognize me."

"What's his name?" Gibbs persisted.

"Nathan," she answered, a little too quickly. I stole a glance at Gibbs. He noticed the fib, too, but decided not to push the issue.

"How are you related to the others?" Alice asked.

"They're my brothers and sisters." At our questioning look, she added, "Adoptive, of course."

"Is Mrs. Martinez their guardian, too?"

"Dr. Martinez, actually," she corrected. "And yeah, she adopted all of them."

"So you're her adoptive daughter?" Gibbs clarified.

"No, I'm her biological daughter. The others are all adopted."

"How old are you, Max?" Alice inquired.

"Fourteen."

"And your siblings?"

"Fang and Iggy are both fourteen, Nudge is eleven, Gazzy is eight, and Angel is six."

"How long have you known them?"

"I've known Fang, Iggy, and Nudge for as long as I can remember. My mom adopted Gazzy and Angel when they were only a few days old."

"And she named all of you?"

Max didn't answer. Gibbs tried a different angle. Tossing a picture of the victim onto the table, he asked her, "Have you ever seen him?"

She studied the picture. "Wait, isn't that the dead guy that was in the van?" Gibbs nodded. "He looks different with no blood on his face."

"Do you know him?" I continued.

She shook her head. "Never seen him before today."

"Agent Gibbs, I really don't think that Max knows anything about your murder investigation," Alice intervened. "I would suggest that you just find Dr. Martinez and send Max and her siblings home."

Having no more questions, Gibbs and I left Max with the advocate. Finally, we had a name: Valencia Martinez.

McGee stormed of the other room in a huff. "Boss, those kids are brats," he announced. "One wouldn't say anything, and the one that would talk refused to make eye contact and didn't give us anything useful."

"We got something from Max," I said, and told him what we had learned from the oldest girl. "She was obviously lying about her family."

"McGee, Valencia Martinez," Gibbs delegated.

"On it, Boss."

Ziva exited the third room. "Nothing," she told Gibbs and me. "They are quite firm-lipped."

"Tight-lipped, Ziva," I corrected.

"Whatever, Tony," she said, exasperated. "They didn't say a word."  
>What were these children hiding?<p>

**A/N: What did you think? Did you like it? Most of the comments I've received have agreed on which director I should have. The director might appear in the next chapter, or the one after that. Thank you for all your input. Review, please! Reviews make me happy. *happy dances* **


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5: A Bomb and a Breakout

**A/N: Hola! I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to my fantastic reviewers for the last chapter, im2lazy4aname, hiholly123, SliverStar121 and Telur Skiee, as well as my anonymous reviewers. Thank you all for making me a happy writer indeed!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Angel:

_Can you pick up anything from them, Angel? _Gazzy thought at me.

_They're definitely not whitecoats,_ I answered him, _but there are some scary things in their minds, Ziva especially. She thinks in a different language, but I see images of…_ I paused to clear my mind of the pictures I had seen in her mind- people dying, their memories haunting her, a repeating image of a bomb going off, people dying, someone she loved dearly among them. _…bad things. I can't get into Gibbs' mind at all. Tony and –what was that other man's name? McGee? - they're pretty much open books. I'm sure I can control them. Nudge, how are you doing?_

_All right, _she thought at me, but I could sense her hesitation. _If we start a fight, I'm not sure how much of a help I'll be._

_Who says _we're_ going to start it? _Gazzy asked. Although he kept his face blank, I could practically see an evil grin on his face.

_Experience? _Nudge suggested.

I extended my mental e-mail list to include Iggy, Max, and Fang. _Does anyone know how we're going to get out of these handcuffs? _I asked.

_I caught a glimpse of the key, _Iggy said. _It's a basic lock. I could pick it with my eyes shut and my hands tied behind my back._

_Very funny, Iggy. Do you have anything that you could use to make an explosion?_

_Not much,_ he thought back. _ I used a lot of my stash on the Flyboys. If you just need a distraction, though, I might be able to do something. Ask the Gasman what he's got._

_When we get out of here, _Max's voice came, _you and I are going to have a chat about your "stash," Iggy._

_It's coming in pretty handy now, isn't it? _Iggy responded. I could feel Max rolling her eyes.

Gazzy and Iggy launched into a discussion of what each of them had, what they needed, and a bunch of other stuff that I didn't understand. I just passed the messages back and forth.

Finally, Gazzy started speaking to all of us, rather than just Iggy. _Does anyone have anything flammable?_

_Those are never comforting words, Gasman, _Max told him.

_I have some nail polish in my pocket,_ Nudge said. _Isn't that flammable?_

The grin on Gazzy's face gave us the answer.

_How are we going to do this? _I asked.

Max, as per usual, came up with a plan. It was a quite brilliant plan, too. _Let's do this! _she said. _Three, two, one…Go!_

I watched her mind as she kicked out the lock on her door, flew out, and began racing down the hall. As soon as the lock broke, though, an alarm began to sound. _Crap _raced through all of our minds. Well, actually, in a few cases, it was a bit stronger than crap, but you get the picture. A large part of our plan was based on the assumption that the NCIS agents wouldn't know we were escaping for a little while. Instead of having a few minutes of undetected escape time, we would now be lucky to get even sixty seconds. _Okay, let's move it, people, _Max told us. She opened the door to Iggy and Fang's room, and a few seconds later, ours swung open as well. Nudge had already handed the nail polish (as well as a small bottle of nail polish remover) over to Gazzy, who dashed from our room into Iggy's, where they began to pick each other's handcuffs, then ours. Once we were all free, they began wrapping newspapers around a fuse. Where they were carrying all that is beyond me.

"Shouldn't we have someone standing guard?" Gazzy asked, not looking up from his work.

"Good idea, Gaz," Max agreed. "Angel, you and I, outside." I followed her out into the hallway just in time, as two burly security guards, followed by Tony, came racing down the hall. Max leapt into the air, and for a second, I thought she was going to snap out her wings, but she simply kicked one guard on the side of his ribcage. He stumbled and fell into the other guy, and both of them tumbled to the ground. The man Max had kicked was thinking a string of curse words that would have made a sailor blush and clutching his side. Max had snapped a couple of his ribs, at least.

Meanwhile, I looked Tony straight in the eye. "There's nothing here," I told him, sending him convincing thought messages. "It must have been a false alarm. You should turn it off now."

He was as easily manipulated as wet play dough. "I should turn off the alarm now," he slurred.

"After that, you should tell everyone that it was just a false alarm, and that we're all still restrained and sitting where you left us."

"I'll do that."

"Good. Go do it now."

"Yes." He turned around, shut off the alarm, and started back the way he had come. I looked over at Max, who was shaking her head.

"You scare me, sweetie."

I grinned. "Thanks," I said. "How's the bomb going?"

Before she could answer, Fang entered the hallway, helping Iggy as he came. Behind them came Nudge, and then Gazzy, who was triumphantly holding a mess of newspaper, nail polish, and polish remover in his hands.

"All done?" Max asked.

"Yup!" Gazzy exclaimed proudly. "Just have to light it and run. What happened to the alarm?"

"Angel got someone to take care of that. Let's go." With that, we began moving as quickly as Fang and Iggy could.

"Did anyone happen to pick up a map at the visitor's center?" Iggy asked a minute later, when we were circling the building, looking for a way out.

"And we can't just walk out through the front door because?" Gazzy asked.

"Because there's probably a ton of cameras and people there that we would have to get past. Angel might be able to get past them, but it would take a while, and the sooner we can get out of here, the better," Max explained again.

Fang pointed across the hall. "Map," he noted. We all gathered around it.

"There," Max said. "There's a large room with a window to the street. Let's go for it."

With renewed energy, we made our way through the halls up to the room. We didn't bother to muffle our footsteps. There was loud rock music playing from inside the room that camouflaged the sound of us walking. Max gestured for us to wait, then slipped inside. A minute later, after making sure there was no one there, she called us in. We spent another valuable minute trying to figure out how to open the window. After we figured it out, our next challenge was trying to get Iggy through it. It wasn't a particularly large window, it was about seven feet off the ground, and any awkward movements made him gasp in pain. Although Fang and Max could easily reach the window, lifting Iggy while keeping him immobilized was a different story. Nudge, Gazzy, and I tried to help, but we really couldn't do much.

"All right," Max gasped. "On three. One…two…"

"What the hell are you doing in my lab?"

**A/N: Sorry this one is a bit shorter than normal, but this seemed like a good place to end the chapter. The next one should be up pretty soon. I can't decide whether it should be in Abby's or Gibbs' POV. Your thoughts? Reviews might make the update come faster…*hint hint* REVIEW! Thank you, and have a nice day.**


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6: Kids and Collars

**Bonjour! This one is pretty long, so hopefully it will make up for last chapter's shortness. Thank you to all my reviewers: CharmedGirl14, Telur Skiee, Lila, SliverStar121, and my anonymous reviewer. You guys make me feel special.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Abby:

After getting the results back on the tox screen I ran on the victim's blood, I ran upstairs to tell Gibbs. He insisted on taking the elevator down. I really don't like the elevator, especially when I'm excited. As soon as it dinged, I sprang out and began trotting into my lab, until-

"What the hell are you doing in my lab?"

The six kids Tony had told me about were in my lab. They had gotten the window open and Max and Fang were trying to lift Iggy through it. As soon as they heard me, Iggy swung his legs down and stood up. Dang, he was _tall_. They all were. Tony had said that the three oldest kids were all fourteen, but Max looked about fifteen or sixteen, and the boys both could have easily passed as eighteen.

As soon as he heard me yell, Gibbs ran to my side, gun drawn. "Freeze!" he ordered in that tone of voice that Tony and McGee have learned to obey and fear.

These kids obviously did not share that fear. Angel and Nudge jumped into the air and grabbed the bottom of the window. I did a double take. How was that possible? The window was seven feet high. Using amazing upper body strength, they pulled themselves up and out the window. From that angle, they resumed their attempts to lift their Iggy out.

Gibbs sprinted across my lab and tackled Max, who was holding the Iggy's feet. She fell to the ground, as did Iggy's bottom half. He cursed loudly. As Gibbs pinned Max and handcuffed her, I called Tony. Ringing, ringing…_oh, come on, Tony, pick up…_

"You've reached Very Special Agent DiNozzo, how may I help you?" Tony answered in his best Johnny Cash impersonator voice. Curious as I was about why he was trying (and failing) to sound like the Man in Black, I cut to the chase.

"Tony, it's Abby. We could use a hand down here."

"On it."

As I grabbed a few spare pairs of handcuffs from my desk drawer (yes, I keep handcuffs in my desk- don't you?), I noticed something odd. As Gibbs cuffed Fang, Iggy didn't try to run or fight. He didn't even glance at Gibbs or me. In fact, his posture looked fairly relaxed- arms stretched back, leaning on the table behind him- but there was something about him that made me think he was still paying attention to everything going on around him.

I tossed the handcuffs to Gibbs, and he approached Iggy, who still didn't even look at him. "Turn around, and put your hands behind your back," Gibbs told him. He didn't move, or even acknowledge that Gibbs had spoken to him.

"He's talking to you, Ig," Max said wearily from the ground. "Just do it."

Iggy complied. I was confused. How had he not known that Gibbs was talking to him? Unless… all the pieces suddenly fell together. "You're blind."

"Really?" Iggy said sarcastically. "I just thought this was a really dark room."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "He's worse than Tony," I mused aloud.

"Did I hear my name?" Tony bounded in, Ziva on his heels. As soon as he saw the kids, his mouth fell open. "How did you get out? Five minutes ago, you were sitting in interrogation."

I caught a glimpse of the Gasman grinning up at Angel. She smiled back smugly.

Gibbs' phone rang. "Yeah, Gibbs." He paused. "Be right up, Jen." He snapped the phone shut. "DiNozzo, David, take the kids back to interrogation. Do _not_ let them out of your sight." He turned to leave.

"GibbsGibbsGibbsGibbsGibbs!" I screamed.

"What?" he said in his exasperated voice.

"I was trying to tell you about the results I got on the victim's tox screen," I called.

"Tell me later, Abs." The ding of the elevator punctuated his sentence.

"He's so impatient," I sighed grumpily to Tony.

"No kidding," he replied.

Ziva was trying to coax Angel and Nudge down from the window. They looked to Max. After a moment's pause, she nodded. The two immediately climbed down and allowed Ziva to cuff them.  
>"Abby, while everyone's down here, Gibbs wanted fingerprints and DNA," Ziva mentioned.<p>

"No," Max stated bluntly.

"It wasn't actually a question," I informed her.

"Fingerprints, fine, even though I can already tell you exactly what you'll find: nada," Max relented. "But no DNA."

"It still wasn't a question."

"The only way you're getting any of our DNA is over my dead body."

"It's still not a question."

There was an awkward staring contest. I was about to lose, when Nudge piped up. "I love your collar," she told me. "It's so chic."

That was unexpected. "Thank you," I said.

"I asked Max if I could get a collar once, but she said no. And it wasn't exactly like that, 'cause it had little pink and purple rings around the spikes, but I like yours better. It's more fierce, you know?" She said this all very fast. I wondered if she drank Caf-Pow. "And your tattoos are amazing. Max, could I-"

"No, no, no, no, no, and no," Max said firmly. "You are not getting a spider web tattooed on your neck."

"But-"

"No."

"What if-"

"No."

"Ever?"

"No."

"That's not my only tat," I mentioned.

Nudge's eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep." I showed her the back of my finger and the inside of my forearm. "I've got others, too."

The look in Nudge's eyes was one of sheer admiration.

I saw Max sigh, and quickly added, "But you really shouldn't get a tat when you're young, 'cause you don't know if you'll like it when you're older."

"How old were you when you got your first tattoo?" she asked.

"Umm, uh…." The real answer was fourteen, but I wasn't about to tell this 11-year-old that. "Nineteen," I decided.

"I thought you said you got your first tat when you were-" Tony began, but glares from Max and me forced him to end his sentence "-twenty-one."

"Do you want to try on my collar?" I asked Nudge.

She nodded eagerly. "Can I?"

I unfastened the collar from around my neck, and hooked it around hers. It complimented her mocha-colored skin nicely. Suddenly, she looked much older. She went from a scruffy middle-schooler to a sophisticated, if short, high school girl. I grabbed a CD and held the reflective side up to Nudge so she could see what she looked like.

"OMG! It's so awesome!" Grinning from ear to ear, she touched the leather reverently, as if she couldn't believe it was real. Turning to show the others, she said, "Max, what do you think?"

Max's eyes went wide, and I know she was just as surprised by Nudge's sudden increase in apparent age as I was. "Wow," was all she could say. Gazzy and Angel laughed- but not maliciously, Nudge's positive energy was just that contagious- and Fang smiled and gave her a thumbs-up and a nod of approval. Even Tony and Ziva, who were trying to act all professional, couldn't help but grin at Nudge's exuberant expression.

After another glance at herself in the CD, she reached up to the back of her neck and started to unfasten it. Her fingers fumbled over the clasp. "Can you help me get it off?"

"Sure." I slipped behind her and undid the clasp. Perfect- a strand of her hair was caught in the collar. I pulled the spiked collar away from her neck and laid it down on my desk. I caught Tony's eye- he had seen the hair caught in the clasp- and nodded.

"So, fingerprints, Abby?" Ziva asked. She had seen the hair, too, and understood that I could get DNA from that.

"Yup," I replied.

The kids came to the machine in pairs, and I scanned their fingertips. As Fang and Iggy stepped up, I noticed Iggy was leaning on Fang and walking funny. "Are you okay, Iggy?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly.

"No, you're walking weird. What's wrong?"

"He always walks like that," Max told me hastily.

"I doubt that," Ziva said.

As I was scanning, Tony came up behind Iggy and gently pushed his shoulder. Iggy gasped, stiffening. Yep, there was definitely something up with his back. I didn't have time to think about that, though, because as soon as Tony touched Iggy, all the kids took a menacing step forward. Who knew that a blond six-year-old could look so intimidating?

Of the group, though, the most intimidating were Max and Fang. Both of them swiftly cornered Tony. In a heartbeat, Ziva had her gun drawn and aimed at them. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that, if she deemed it necessary, she would be able to shoot the teens and leave Tony totally unharmed. Tony reached for his gun, too, but Fang kicked it out of his hand. It clattered to the ground, and Fang put his foot on top of it.

"What's your problem?" Max snarled. "Shoving a blind guy? Do you kick puppies on your days off or what?"

Meanwhile, the younger kids had surrounded Iggy, and Nudge, the closest to his height, whispered something to him. Seeing he was in pain, I grabbed the chair from my desk and rolled it to him. "Do you want to sit down?" I asked him.

"Swivel chair at five o'clock, the seat's about nineteen inches off the ground," Gazzy clarified. Iggy carefully sat down on the edge of the chair, not letting himself lean back. Looking closely at his back, I could see a slight outward curvature of his back. _That's odd,_ I thought. _The back's supposed to curve _in _right there, not out._

"You all right, Iggy?" Max asked, not looking away from Tony. Now that I was looking for it, she had the same spinal curve as Iggy. In fact, all the kids' backs seemed to arc the slightest bit outward. You wouldn't notice it if you weren't paying attention or looking for it, but it was definitely there.

After a moment's hesitation, he replied, "Fine."

Giving Tony one last glare, Max spun around, flipping her hair as she strode to Iggy's side. Fang slid his foot under Tony's gun and flipped it up, like a soccer ball. Catching the gun by the barrel, he casually handed the gun back to a speechless Tony and followed Max.

I tiptoed around the kids, and whispered to Tony, "I'm going to get Ducky." He nodded, still stunned by Fang's trick with the handgun.

I speed-walked down to Autopsy, where Ducky was in the middle of pulling organs from the victim's torso. "Oh, this is my favorite part of dinner theater," I commented as I entered.

"Oh, Abigail," Ducky commented, "you're just in time. I was just telling Mr. Palmer the history of quill pens. The most sought-after feathers were those from the outer feathers of the left wing taken from a living bird in the springtime."

"Why the left wing, Doctor?" Palmer asked.

"Because they were the most convenient for use by right-handed writers."

"Really?" Palmer always seemed like he could listen to Ducky's stories forever.

"How did you get to the topic of quill pens?" I asked.

"There were remnants of bird feathers in his throat," Palmer told me, holding up a petri dish of something that I couldn't recognize as bird feathers.

"I'll take your word for it. Ducky, did you notice anything wrong with Iggy when he came down here?" I asked.

"No, why?"

I told him what I had discovered upstairs. "He's blind? I couldn't tell," Ducky commented.

"Yeah, but do you think there's anything wrong with his back?"

"Well, I'd be willing to take a look. Can he walk?"

"Sort of, when he leans on someone."

"You still have that chair on wheels in your lab, don't you?" he asked.

"Sure." Realization dawned on me. "We can use that as a wheelchair!" Ducky nodded. "You're the best, Ducky," I told him, giving him a hug and heading back upstairs.

Once Tony, Ziva, and I got the whole group down to Autopsy (the others refused to leave Iggy alone, and kept giving Tony suspicious looks), the group suddenly wanted to leave. We hadn't told them where we were taking Iggy; we just started walking, and the others followed.

"Hello, Iggy," Ducky said kindly. "I'm Ducky."

"Oh. I thought it was Lucy Goosey."

Ducky ignored that. "Is your back all right?"

"It's fine."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Well, Abby says other-" Ducky stopped short as soon as he touched Iggy's back. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Iggy asked innocently.

"This, on your back," Ducky told him.

"I don't know-"

"Iggy, it's fine." Max spoke like every word hurt, but her message still rang with authority. "Just show them."

"Max, I can't." He glanced at her, and she nodded.

"Fine, I will." She began to take off her jacket, but hesitated. "Angel, you're sure?"

She nodded. "They're just curious."

Max took off her jacket. Her T-shirt had long slits cut in the back of it. They actually looked really cool. Suddenly, huge bird wings erupted from her back. They emerged through the slits and stretched out to their full length, which was about thirteen or fourteen feet across.

_What the hell?_

**Cliffhanger! Muahahaha! I am so evil. Sorry, I know this was really long, but I hope it was worth it. Any opinions on next chapter's POV? I've been switching MR/NCIS every other chapter, but I don't have to do that. Any opinions would be appreciated. **

**Review, please! I will not update until I get seven reviews. Yes, I am that evil. Seven! Or I will not update! You can do it! Just hit that little button, type a message, and make me do a happy dance!**


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7: Wings and "What?"

**Oh my goodness, you all rock! Less than 24 hours after I updated, you had already shot passed the seven-review marker. I feel so guilty for taking so long. Thank you to CharmedGirl14, SliverStar121, Knight Mistress, Lila, Wellhellothere, Cookie, Arizair Oakstaff, roylpain, max artemis potter, neverstopwrighting, and my anonymous reviewers. Here's the next chapter, hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

Fang:

I still wasn't totally sure about showing them our wings, but I had to admit, the look on Palmer's face was priceless.

As I glanced behind me at the other NCIS people, their reactions were just as funny. Ziva's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. Abby whispered to no one in particular, "That's so cool." DiNozzo gazed at Max's speckled wings like they belonged to an angel that had slipped from heaven and landed in autopsy. Max's wings were beautiful- her blond hair complimenting the brown-and-white pattern of her feathers perfectly. For a second, I wondered why we called the six-year-old "Angel."

As Max turned to face us, dipping her wing so she didn't smack Iggy upside the head, I forced the how-hot-is-Maximum-Ride thoughts out of my mind and listened to how she was planning to explain this to the non-flock.

"Do you all have those?" DiNozzo asked weakly.

"Yup," Max answered. "Fang's and Iggy's are a bit bigger."

"Can you…fly?" Ziva asked incredulously.

"Well, they're not just there for decoration," Max told her.

"That shouldn't be aerodynamically possible!" Abby blurted. "The human body is too heavy to be lifted by small wings, and large wings are too heavy to get themselves, let alone a body, off the ground."

"Wanna bet?" Max asked, looking around to see how much space she had. Stepping away from the tables, she warned us all, "You might want to step back a bit."

The flock gave her some space, and the agents and scientists stepped behind us. With a beat of her wings, she leapt off the ground and hovered about three feet off the ground.

"Fortunately," she told Abby, "I ain't human. Well, at least partly."

"You're part human?"

"98%. Give or take."  
>"And the other two percent?"<p>

"Walrus," Max deadpanned. After a second, she rolled her eyes. "Bird. I mean, did you not notice the _wings_?"

"What type of bird?" Ducky asked.

"We're not sure. Hawk, maybe?"

"Wow," Abby said, stunned.

Max lightly touched down and turned back to Iggy and Ducky. "Iggy's back is messed up," she told Ducky. "Do you think you can fix it?"

"I can try," Ducky offered.

Half an hour later, after some choice cuss words from Iggy, his back looked a ton better. His spine looked straight again, and he could move his shoulders, wings, and legs without too much pain. "I would advise not doing anything too strenuous with your arm or wing for at least the next week," Ducky told him.

"Like flying," Iggy said sullenly.

"We heal really fast," Max informed him. "A week's recovery for a normal person is like…two, maybe three days for us."

"That's…amazing," Ducky said incredulously.

DiNozzo's cell phone rang. "DiNozzo," he answered. "Boss, you're never going to believe this. No, really…okay." He hung up. "Director wants to meet Max," he whispered to Ziva.

"We're not being separated," Max said bluntly.

"How the hell did you hear me?" DiNozzo asked.

"It's another bonus to the wing thing. We have enhanced senses- mostly sight and hearing. Iggy has the best ears and sense of touch I've ever seen."

"But that's probably because I'm blind," Iggy finished. "Necessity is the mother of invention. Someone smart said that, I think…"

"Plato, the Greek philosopher," Ducky supplied.

"Oh, yeah, that dude."

"Well, are we going to meet this Director person or not?" Max asked, and I knew what she was thinking. The last time she met a director, it was the director of Itex, the creepy lady who pretended to be her mom.

"Her office is on the fourth floor," Ziva told us. "Elevator or stairs?"

"Stairs," we all said immediately, even Iggy.

"We're all kind of claustrophobic," Max told her. "Like, _really_ claustrophobic."

"Stairs it is," Ziva agreed.

When we reached the third floor, I saw McGee sitting at a computer, typing hurriedly. "McGee, you are not going to believe this," DiNozzo called across the office. McGee and several other people looked up.

"Hey," Max chided, "would you mind not telling the world about this? We generally try to keep it quiet."

"Oh. Right." He waved McGee over silently.

"What, Tony?" McGee asked, sounding irritated. "If Gibbs walks in and I have nothing for him-"

"He's upstairs with the director, McScaredyPants. You are _not_ going to believe this."

"What am I not going to believe?" McGee asked.

DiNozzo took a deep breath, and then shook his head. "No, you won't believe it. You gotta see it to believe it."  
>"See what?"<p>

"Just- come."

McGee rolled his eyes, but followed anyway. I think he was too curious to turn around.

When we reached the fourth floor, an African-American woman waved DiNozzo, Ziva, and McGee in. She gave the flock a curious look, but didn't ask questions.

We entered, and Gibbs was there, talking to a woman with short red hair. They stopped speaking as soon as we entered.

"Director," DiNozzo said, "this is Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel. Kids, this is Director Jennifer Shepard. She's in charge of NCIS."

"Hello," the director greeted us. Her voice was calm and formal, the stereotype of politicians everywhere.

"Hi," Max said cautiously.

DiNozzo tried to whisper something to Gibbs, but I could hear him clearly. He kind of sucked at whispering. "Boss, the kids have _wings_," he said excitedly.

Gibbs looked confused. "What?"

"They have _wings_."

"They have…what?"

"Wings. Like, bird wings. On their backs. They can fly."

"DiNozzo, April Fool's Day was months ago."

"Boss, I'm not joking. They have _wings_."

Gibbs glanced at us. "Really, DiNozzo."

"I'm not kidding!" He turned to us. "Tell him!"

"Tell him what?" Max asked, the epitome of innocence.

"About the wings."

"What wings?" she asked. Anyone who didn't know her would have thought she was totally confused, but from the twinkle in her eyes, I knew better.

A second later, the entire flock started cracking up. Angel was laughing so hard, I thought she was going to pass out. "Sorry, Tony," Max gasped, trying to catch her breath. "But the look on your face…."

When she realized the joke, Ziva chuckled as well. DiNozzo shot her a death glare, which she ignored. Shepard and Gibbs just looked puzzled.

"Here, I'll show you," Max offered, then hesitated. "Nudge, I think yours are small enough. Would you do the honors?"

Nudge grinned, shrugged off her hoodie sweatshirt, and spread her twelve-foot wings. Her wings were quite pretty as well, though not nearly as gorgeous as Max's. As she stretched her wings out, her feathers glistened in the sunlight from the large window behind Shepard's desk. Window=escape possibility=good.

Both Gibbs and Shepard were at a loss for words. "Told you so," Tony said smugly.

"Can you actually fly?" Shepard asked.

"Yup," Nudge said proudly, jumping into the air and hovering there, beating her wings as necessary.

"That's amazing," the director murmured.

"How did you get the wings?" the ever practical Gibbs asked.

We all looked to Max. "It was a long time ago," she told him. "None of us can remember."

"Surely, you must know _something_," Shepard inquired.

"Trust me; we've all tried to remember so many times. We think it happened when we were really little. I've had wings for as long as I can remember."

"But you have parents?"

"I have parents," Max corrected. "But I only found out about them recently."

"I found my parents awhile back," Iggy confessed. "They weren't okay with the wings, so I left." It wasn't the truth, but none of us were going to comment. Nudge was, for once, silent, and I could see the Gasman and Angel trying to be stoic, but I knew they were fighting back tears. I hated my mom for giving up on me, but knowing that your parents had sold you away like puppies from a litter had to be a million times worse.

"The rest of us don't know anything," I stated quickly.

"If you just found your parents recently, and the rest of you don't live with yours, where have you been living? Who's been taking care of you?" Shepard asked.

"Anywhere we can…" Max answered the first question.

"…and Max," the Gasman finished.

"Why's Max in charge?" Tony asked.

"I'm the good-looking one," Max told him. The rest of us snorted and began a chorus of "Yeah, right" and "I think that would be _me_, actually, Max."

"Oh, shut up," Max said, but she was grinning.

"You've got some sense of humor," Tony commented.

"Well, you laugh or you cry," Max responded. "So, why are we here, anyway?"

"I was…intrigued by what I had heard about you," Shepard said, retaining her composure. Yep. Definitely a politician.

"You've heard about us?"

"Well, not until today," she admitted.

"So, I assume Agent Gibbs has already filled you in on everything?"

"Yes…" she said hesitantly.

"…but from what you've just told us," Gibbs added, "most of that was a lie."

"Yep," Max said cheerfully.

"Your mom," Gibbs said. It wasn't really a question, but demanded an answer, anyway.

Max stared. "That's the worst 'your mom' joke ever."

"Your mom's the worst 'your mom' joke ever," Gazzy and Iggy said in unison, without missing a beat. Angel and Nudge slapped them on the back of their heads.

"They're like a mini version of your team, Jethro," Shepard commented.

"No, Jen, my team's more disciplined."

"Yeah, but my team kicks more ass," Max shot back.

"Highly debatable," Tony said instantly.

"Wanna bet?" Max offered.

Tony totally looked like he was about to start a fight (if only to defend his pride), but the Director clearing her throat and Gibbs glaring was enough to make him stop. He shot Max a dirty look, until I began nonchalantly tapping my foot, reminding him of my trick with his gun. He swallowed hard, and I inwardly grinned.

"Max. Your mother." Wow, Gibbs might actually give me competition in the functional-mute contest.

"Valencia Martinez is my mom. Like I said, I didn't know that until recently, and I don't live with her."

"And your dad?" Shepard asked.

Max sighed. "Do you want the truth?"

"No, I love being lied to," she responded sarcastically.

"His name's Jeb Batchelder. He's the guy on the slab down in autopsy."

_Was she messing with them?_ I wondered. One look at her face told me no.

**A/N: Hee hee, another cliffy! Kudos to anyone who guessed who the dead guy was. I'm sorry if Jenny was a little OOC. I don't know her that well, so I was kind of improvising. Hopefully, I faked it convincingly. Review, please! I'm not going to set an "I want _ reviews before I update" again, because I feel guilty when you've reviewed and I'm not ready to update, but please! Review! **


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8: The Flock Fights the Field Team.

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry this chapter took forever for me to update, but I had written about 800 words, before realizing that it was horrible and I needed to start over. School has also now started where I live, so updates are going to be a lot less frequent from now on. I apologize to anyone who actually knows the rules of sparring, and winces constantly during this, but I don't know those rules, and I couldn't think of the word I was thinking of, so I just used sparring. Please don't send me a bunch of angry reviews explaining my inaccuracies. Thank you to the wonderful people who reviewed: SliverStar121, CharmedGirl14, Lila, Annabeth Luxa Potter, Knight Mistress, XxHelixRiderxX, 15dragondream, and hemillsie, as well as my friend Vincent (not a real name, you know who you are) who helped me make decisions, as I am really indecisive. You rock, Vincent! Here's the next chapter; I hope it was worth the wait.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

McGee:

"Tony, I really don't think this is a good idea," I told him yet again as we headed to the basement.

"Yeah," Iggy agreed. "It might be kind of hard to solve a murder from a wheelchair."

"I was thinking hospital bed, but Iggy's got a point," Max acknowledged.

After a few more questions, the Director had dismissed us. As soon as we were out of her office, Tony had challenged Max to a sparring match. She had agreed, and I was pretty sure one of them was going to end up dead.

"You actually think you can top me?" Tony asked.

"I think Angel could top you," Max clarified. "And she's _six._"

Tony laughed. "I doubt that. There's not a person in the world that can take me down other than Leroy Jethro Gibbs." Ziva cleared her throat. "And Ziva."

Max laughed. "All right, then, if Ziva's so good, I'll take on her, and Angel can have you."

"What about the rest of us?" Gazzy asked.

"McGee?" Max suggested.

The terror must have been evident on my face, because Tony laughed. "I think the six-year-old might be more Tim's speed."

"Okay, so Angel and Gazzy get McGee, Nudge gets Tony, and Fang and I get Ziva," Max suggested. "One at a time, of course."

"I don't know. McGee, do you think you can handle two kids under age ten?" I rolled my eyes at Tony.

"What about me?" Iggy whined.

"You got your wing shoved back into its socket an hour ago, Iggy. I know we heal fast, but not that fast. You are sitting this one out."

"Please? I'll make you a cake."

"I'm rolling my eyes, Iggy."

"I'm standing right behind you with a bomb, Max." The voice was Iggy's, but his lips didn't move. Max spun around, and the Gasman started laughing. "You are so dead, Gazzy," she told the boy.

"Wait, he did that?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Yup! I can throw my voice, and mimic just about any sound," Gazzy said proudly- in Tony's voice.

"Okay, that's kind of scary," I told him.

"Don't you know it," he agreed in my voice.

As Iggy sulked and we all warmed up, I saw Max tell Angel, "Don't kill him, sweetie. Your brother's after you."

"Okay, Max." She smiled. She really was a sweet little kid.

Ten minutes later, I had bruises in places I didn't know could bruise, and wondering how I could have ever considered her a "sweet little" anything. She gave me the same smile she had given Max, but it meant something totally different this time.

Gazzy wanted to go next, but I demanded a break, so Nudge took on Tony next. She took him down with about as much effort as Gibbs did. I think he was a bit stunned at the end when he found himself on the ground with Nudge's foot at his throat. She grinned, stepped to the side, and helped him up. As he took a shaky step forward, though, she stuck her foot out, and Tony fell again. "Oops," Nudge said unconvincingly.

Next, it was the Gasman's turn. This time, I was expecting an attack more powerful than one would guess. That helped a bit, I guess, but not nearly enough. He still scored time after time without too much trouble.

Next, as Fang was about to face off against Ziva, Gibbs walked in, Abby behind him. We tried to look innocent, but the bruise on my forehead, the fact that Tony was rubbing his arm, and Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge's smug faces gave us away.

"It was McGee's idea," Tony blurted instantly. I glared at him, then turned to Gibbs to explain.

"Really," Gibbs said. Turning to me, he said, "Good idea, McGee."

He didn't sound sarcastic, much to my surprise. "Thanks, boss," I said tentatively.

"Who took on Fang?" he asked.

"No one yet," Tony replied. "Ziva was about to."

"You willing to change partners?" Gibbs asked Fang.

He shrugged. "Sure."

"McGee, what happened to your head?" Abby asked suddenly.

"Yeah, McGee, what happened to your head?" Tony asked, mimicking Abby's concerned tone, but with a smirk on his face.

"I, um, fell."

"Tell her who made you fall, McGee," Tony prompted teasingly.

"Um, well, uh…Angel," I admitted.

"The six-year-old blond girl?" Abby asked dubiously.

I sighed. "Thanks a lot, Tony," I muttered.

Gibbs pulled on a pair of gloves, then stepped into the ring with Fang.

"Ten bucks says Gibbs kicks his butt," Tony whispered to me.

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "I'm not stupid."

"Neither am I," piped up Max. "You're on, Tony." They shook on the deal. Abby shook her head at Max, but said nothing.

For the first few seconds, Gibbs and Fang circled each other, neither throwing a punch. Then, Fang feinted a punch, and Gibbs started to lean forward to block it. Fang swung his leg out. Gibbs dodged and socked Fang just below the ribcage. Fang grunted, then aimed a kick at Gibbs' head. Abby gasped- neither of them was wearing a head protector- and clutched my arm. At the last second, Gibbs reached up and deflected Fang's kick by grabbing Fang's ankle and wrenching it upwards. Fang began to fall backwards, but rolled into a backwards roll as he landed. As he righted himself into a crouch, he leapt up and delivered a powerful kick to Gibbs' torso, knocking him over. A second later, Fang was standing on Gibbs' side, miming a kick to the neck that would have killed Gibbs had Fang actually made contact. "I win," he muttered, then extended a hand to help Gibbs up. Gibbs got up more gracefully than I would have expected of a man his age that had just been decked by a fourteen-year-old. Tony, Ziva, Abby, and I were standing there with our mouths hanging open.

"Did that actually just happen?" Abby wondered aloud. "Or am I dreaming? Pinch me, McGee." I obliged gently. "Okay, not a dream." Beside us, the flock was congratulating Fang. He grinned at all of them, but always kept looking at Max out of the corner of his eye. Watching her, I realized she did the same thing.

"Somebody's a bit more than brother and sister, huh?" I said to Tony, who was watching Ziva warm up.

"What?" he said, jumping as if I had just shocked him.

"Max and Fang," I clarified.

"Oh. Oh, right," he said, pointedly looking away from Ziva. _Hmm…_

"Don't worry," Max told Ziva, once they were in the ring. "I'll try not to hurt you."

"I was about to say the same," Ziva replied.

Suddenly, the two launched themselves at each other. It was crazy- a mess of punches, kicks, blocks, and feints. "Talk about a catfight," Tony muttered.

Watching them, I noticed certain advantages and disadvantages each one had. Max seemed to be lighter and faster, but Ziva could recover faster from a hit. Max also had much better lung capacity- she wasn't breathing hard, as Ziva was. But one thing frightened me during the match. Both had joked about trying not to hurt the other, but as I watched Max, I realized she hadn't been kidding. She was easily holding her own against Ziva, but she was clearly holding back. While Ziva had been trained to incapacitate instead of kill, Max had had no such training. She was used to the philosophy of kill-or-be-killed and fights to the death. I was curious, but also concerned, how a fourteen-year-old got that kind of experience.

After ten minutes, as was standard, we called a time-out. "She's good, Gibbs," I heard Ziva say. "Other than killing her, there's not much I can do. I'm just delaying the inevitable."

"I think Max is in the same boat," Tony commented. Max was leaning on a table, gulping water. Oddly, although she looked exhausted, she still wasn't breathing hard at all.

"Okay, as unofficial referee, I declare this match a draw," Gibbs said, loud enough for the flock to hear.

They all turned to Max, who nodded her acceptance. "Draw," she acknowledged, shaking hands with Ziva.

"Damn," Abby said.

"I agree," I replied.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Tony finished.

"What?" Angel asked.

"Ziva…" I began.

"Got in a fight…" Tony continued.

"And Max didn't get her ass handed to her on a silver platter," Abby finished.

"That doesn't happen often?"

"Never," we all replied.

"I could say the same for Max. What happened?" Gazzy asked.

"I was out of my element," she explained. "It's different fighting when neither person is trying to kill the other."

"Well, yeah, there is that," Gazzy admitted.

I would have thought they were joking around, but none of them cracked a smile, and Max and the Gasman's tones weren't sarcastic or teasing. They were dead serious (pun intended).

"Have you actually ever fought someone who wanted you dead?" I asked.

"Well, there was that one time…" she said.

Gibbs had been facing the other direction. Now, he spun around to face Max. "Tell us," he ordered.

"Where to start?" Max wondered aloud.

**A/N: Okay, there you go; you have your new chapter. Who is really, really freaking excited that the new season of NCIS starts on Tuesday? I cannot wait! I'm going to be spazzing out the entire day on Tuesday. And I will probably annoy all my friends by reminding them how many hours there are left until it starts all day long. (It's what I did last year.) Review, please! Even if it's just to tell me what your cat is doing or something that has nothing to do with the story. I enjoy funny cat stories. **


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9: Max's Mom and Mutants

**A/N: Hello all! So, what do you all think of the new season? Thank you to my reviewers: Sandyangel, breeze, Separate Entity, WORMoverBOOK, CharmedGirl14, SliverStar121, Annabeth Luxa Potter, Kali3110, Vincent, LoopyLailaLaughsALot, and Throy567. Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Dr. Valencia Martinez:

_Briinngg!_ The timer on the oven went off, and I slipped on an oven mitt and pulled the pan of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. As I smelled the fresh chocolaty aroma, I thought of Max. I wondered where she was- presumably off saving the world, keeping the flock in line, and being in complete denial about her feelings for Fang.

As I broke off a piece of a cookie and burned my mouth on it, the phone rang. _It's probably Ella, calling to be picked up from soccer practice,_ I thought. I swallowed the cookie and went to answer the phone. The number on the caller ID wasn't Ella's, but then I saw her cell phone sitting on the counter. She had probably borrowed someone else's phone. "Hello?" I asked.

"Hello, is this Dr. Martinez?" an unfamiliar female voice asked.

"Yes," I responded, instantly switching from mother to professional.

"This is Jennifer Shepard. I'm the director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Do you have a daughter named Max?"

"Yes," I answered, my heart rate accelerating. I hadn't heard of her agency before, but I heard the word "criminal." Had Max gotten into trouble again?

"I'm afraid we found your daughter and her…siblings at a crime scene."

"Are they suspects?" In my heart, I knew they hadn't done it, regardless of what the crime was. Not that I didn't think Max was capable. I just knew that she wouldn't get caught.

"I can't discuss an ongoing investigation, but we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions in person."

"What sort of questions?"

"Questions…pertaining to the victim." Director Shepard suggested. "Max said you knew him…."

"Who is he?" I asked, instantly fearing for the flock. Was it Gazzy? Iggy? Fang?

"His name is Jeb Batchelder."

My first thought was _oh, thank god_. The flock was safe. A second later, the impact of what she had said kicked in. "Jeb?"

"Yes. Did you know him?"

"Yes," I said in a strangled tone.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Dr. Martinez," she said.

"How is Max taking it?" I asked after a few seconds.

"Truth be told, much better than I would expect of a fourteen-year-old girl who just lost her father," Shepard said.

"May I speak to Max?" I asked. I knew Max would put on a brave face, particularly around the kids, but I thought I would be able to hear how she was really doing in her voice.

"She's with our Major Case Response Team now. The team is headed by Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who is an excellent agent. I would trust him with my life." The words sounded like any business official praising an employee, but something in her tone in the last sentence made her sound completely genuine. "We were also hoping you could answer some more questions we have about the, uh, fact that your children have wings."

"They told you?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes," she said uncertainly. "I take it they don't tell many people?"

"No," I replied. "They try to keep it pretty quiet. Are they all okay?"

"They're fine, Dr. Martinez." I heard a large muffled commotion in the background, and then Director Shepard's voice calling "Jethro!" in a very reprimanding tone.

"What?" I heard a man- presumable "Jethro"- replying.

"One moment, please!" I heard her ask him in a pleading tone. A second later, she returned to the phone. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized.

"It's all right," I assured her.

"Is there any possibility of us meeting to discuss Max's options?" she asked.

"Depends. Where are you calling from?"

"Our office is in Washington, D.C."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just up and leave for the east coast!" I exclaimed. "I have a veterinarian's office to run, and another daughter who has school. And I can't leave her behind- Ella would be crushed if she didn't get to see Max."

"Does your other daughter also have wings?"

"No, she doesn't."

"Well, perhaps we could come to you?"

"That would work."

Director Shepard and I worked out the details, and then I hung up. A moment later, the obvious logic hit me: an agency that investigated crimes was involved in Jeb's death. Did they suspect murder? Did they suspect the flock?

Gibbs:

As I came bursting in to Jenny's office, I saw that she was on the phone. My team and the flock came in behind me, without bothering to do it quietly.

When Jenny didn't pay attention to me, I gave her a small wave to get her attention. When that didn't work, I banged my hand down on her desk loudly. "Jethro!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"What?" I asked, pleased that she was listening.

"One moment, please?" she asked. I made a zip-the-lips-and-throw-away-the-key motion and gestured for her to proceed.

After the phone call ended, she turned her attention back to us. "What?" she asked in an irritated tone.

"Don't look at me," I said, casting a glance at Max.

"I don't think Max was the one who ran in here and was as obnoxious as possible while I was on the phone with her mother."

"You were on the phone with my mother?" Max and I both asked.

Jen gave me a withering look, and then turned to Max. "Yes. We'll be going to Arizona to meet with her."

"We as in…all of us?" McGee asked.

"Road trip, boss?" DiNozzo asked.

"Yes, and I appreciate the 'boss', Agent DiNozzo," Jen answered.

DiNozzo looked at me out of the corner of his eye. It was then that Jen realized who he had been talking to- and it wasn't her.

"Yup," I clarified for the team. "Pack your bags."

"Not so fast, Jethro," Jen added. "I think two agents and myself are enough to escort the children to Arizona."

"I'd normally agree, Jen, but…" I turned to Max, who had recently told us that she and her siblings weren't the only hybrids running around the earth- and some of the others were a lot more violent.

Jen read my body language, but Max didn't speak. "What?" Jen asked.

"There are some other people who aren't 100% human. We think they were made by the same people who made us," Max told her.

"By _made_, you mean…"

"Genetically engineered."  
>Jen nodded. "You're saying there are more avian-human hybrids?"<p>

"Well, there might be, but not all of them are bird."

"What else are there?"

"One of the ones we've had the most trouble with is the Erasers," Max explained.

"Erasers as in pencil erasers?" Jen asked dubiously.

"No, Erasers as in giant, mutant, part human, part wolf hybrids with a taste for bird kid blood," Max clarified. "That's who we got into a fight with right before you found us."

"I don't mean to state the obvious here, but couldn't you just fly away?" DiNozzo asked.

"We used to be able to. Now, they're being engineered with the ability to fly as well."

"Well, _flying_ might be a bit of an exaggeration," Gazzy added. At our questioning look, he said, "We're designed to be light and fast. They're designed to be bulky and sturdy- good in a fight, not so good in the air."

"They beat you up pretty bad," McGee commented.

"We were injured. We also ensured a 0% survival rate on the packs that attacked us. That counts as a victory, in my book," Max stated bluntly.

"Wait, what?" DiNozzo spoke aloud what we were all thinking. "How many were there?"

"Two groups of sixty, give or take," Max answered.

"The six of you killed a hundred and twenty of these Erasers?" McGee asked.

"Considering I took you down without much effort, you shouldn't be so surprised," Angel said. Jen, processing this, gave Tony (the one she instantly pegged as the instigator of the sparring match) a disapproving look. He tried to look appropriately chastised, but I saw the smirk on his face.

"So, Jethro, you're suggesting we send more than two agents to protect the children?" Jen asked.

"No!" Max said, alarmed. When we looked at her, she clarified: "These things are faster and stronger than you can believe. We're used to fighting them. We're also better fighters than any of you- well, except for Ziva. Even with that, we still get hurt and look death in the face every time we see an Eraser. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"We have guns," I brought up.

"That'd work against the Erasers, but they also have robot minions. We call them Flyboys."

"Why?"

"It's kind of nice to have a name for the thing that's trying to kill you. In any case, bullets won't stop them. All that'll happen if you shoot them is they'll notice you, at which point you die even faster than you ordinarily would have."

"What do the Flyboys look like?" Ziva asked.

"You're about to find out," Angel said suddenly. "Max, they're coming."

"What? How do you know?" Jen asked.

"How fast?" Max inquired, ignoring the director.

"We've got…maybe thirty seconds. They're coming from there." She pointed out the window behind Jenny's desk.

"Does that window open?" Max asked.

"No…"

"Okay, then. All non-flock-" she gestured to all the adults- "get out, now. Get away from this side of the building."

None of us budged. "What are you waiting for?"

"We're not leaving-"

"You want to risk your life and watch? Fine by me. I'd advise covering your face until the glass is finished breaking, though."

"What glass?" someone managed to ask, before they got their answer. Huge flying wolves came bursting through the director's window. I dropped to the ground and shielded my eyes; around me, I could see others doing the same. The flock were the first ones up. Max barked directions to Iggy, and the entire group flew out the window, towards a group of more oncoming mutants. What were they doing? It became clear in a minute, though, when the kids snapped out their wings and began to fight in midair. The Erasers in the office immediately shifted their plan of attack and launched themselves out the window after the kids.

Watching them, I could see what they meant about being better aerial fighters than the Erasers and Flyboys. I could also tell which of the monstrous creatures were which: the Flyboys' motions were definitively robotic, while the Erasers' reminded me of a documentary I saw on wolves once. The Flyboys were better in the air than the Erasers, but not as good as the flock.

I also noticed Angel was focusing more on the Erasers than the Flyboys, although there were a considerable number more robots than wolves. When I began to watch her in particular, I saw something incredibly odd: as soon as she made eye contact with one, it immediately stopped flapping its wings and fell out of sight, without her even touching it.

After a few minutes, the flock had eliminated all of their attackers. Aside from a few scrapes, bruises, and the bloodying of Gazzy's nose, the kids were none the worse for wear. They lightly touched down back into the office, as casually as if they had just stepped out for a stroll.

"We need to get out of here," Max said firmly. "When people come to clean this up, they won't touch you, but we're a different story. We'll come back in a few hours, but for now…"

"Go," I said. After Gazzy grabbed a tissue off Jenny's desk to stop the bleeding of his nose, the group flew out and disappeared over D.C.

At that moment, Abby entered the director's office. "GibbsGibbsGibbs, I've got bad news, you're not going to believe-" She stopped short as she saw the shattered window and the missing kids. "Okay, what'd I miss?"

"I'm not sure," DiNozzo answered wearily.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10: Fluff and Finger Pointing

**A/N: Howdy! I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever. I was doing National Novel Writing Month, so I devoted a lot of time to writing that story, as well as the requisite naps during the first few days of December. I also apologize for this chapter being mostly fluff until the end. On a completely random note, I dressed as Abby for Halloween. It's really fun wearing a spiky choker and skull suspenders. Just putting that out there. Thank you to my reviewers: CharmedGirl14Madkatt, 1Styx and Stones1, BlackAngleGirl, SliverStar121, Separate Entity, Kali3110, Lila, and Vincent. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Iggy:

As we flew, I carefully listened to the wing beats around me. Max was leading the way, Angel and Fang flanking her. I was behind her, with Nudge below me and the Gasman at my seven o'clock. I could hear an eagle about sixty feet above me, but other than that, the entire sky was ours.

After a minute, when we were positive that we weren't being followed, we all relaxed a bit. Gazzy pulled up beside me, the tips of his wings brushing gently against mine. His feathers were small, like Angel's, but hers were softer, where his were coarser.

"You okay, Iggy?" he asked me, quietly enough so that the others couldn't hear us clearly.

"Yeah," I said. Actually, my back was killing me (and I was secretly quite glad Max hadn't let me spar earlier), but I was a bit too proud to dump my pain onto an eight-year-old kid.

Unfortunately, this kid knew me too well. "B.S," he replied calmly, like we were playing poker and he was calling my bluff.

"Yeah," I admitted, slipping closer to him and synchronizing our wings so we didn't hit each other every time we flapped.

"Do you want to stop? I could tell Max that I wanted to stop…"

I smiled at Gazzy's offer, reached over, and ruffled his hair. "No, I'm fine. Thanks, though, buddy."

"There's a group of trees, down at an angle of thirty-five degrees, at about four o'clock," Max called to me. I angled my body and wings the appropriate amount, and began focusing consciously on the oxygen levels in the air, to determine how close I was getting to the ground.

Once we hit the ground, we grouped together and began to discuss our options. "So, are we staying with these NCIS people or not?" I asked.

"No," Fang and Max said, just as Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge said "Yes."

"We can't trust them. Remember what happened with Anne?" Max argued.

"But these people don't feel bad," Angel replied. "They're just curious about us."

"You didn't think Anne felt bad, either," Fang countered.

"But-" Angel threw up her hands. "I don't know how to explain it, but I really think we can trust them.

"We can't trust anyone, Angel," Fang told her firmly.

"Regardless of whether we can trust them or not, I don't like the idea of staying in one place," Max stated. "Obviously, the School knows where we are now. Why should we just sit there and let them find us again?"

"What other option is there?" Gazzy asked.

"There's always another option, Gazzy," Max explained patiently. "C'mon, we can make it on our own. It's not like we haven't done it before."

"But…" The Gasman didn't have an argument for that, but I knew he still wanted to stay, and I knew why: for the moment, we had a place to stay, and we were all in one piece. Call me weird, but I like it that way.

On the other wing, Max had a point: the School knew where we were. In all likelihood, they would soon return with reinforcements. Sooner or later, we would be overpowered. The only way to avoid that would be to move- fast.

"Didn't they say we were going to see Max's mom?" Nudge suggested. "Maybe we could just, like, go to Arizona and chill out there for a while."

This was, I realized, an excellent plan. We could get out of D.C., without abandoning our team of cops. I knew Max would never give up an opportunity to see her mom, so she might actually go for it. After an agonizing few seconds, she finally said, "All right. We'll go back, lie low, and then head out to Arizona. From there, we can let my mom deal with what to do with the NCIS people."

"Sounds good," I said, before anyone could argue. I held out my fist, and the others stacked theirs on top of mine.

After about half an hour- giving the School plenty of time to get there, clean up, and leave without us running into them- we headed back toward NCIS. A lot of people on Fang's blog have asked whether or not flying blind is scary. Scary? You try battling mutant wolves and robots that want to kill you, in the sky, blind. A nice, calm, flight doesn't even rank on the scary-o-meter.

Anywho, we cruised along in silence until Max called "There's some houses down below. I think we're heading into D. C. proper. We should land now. The last thing we need is for someone to start spreading the word about mutant flying kids over D. C." We complied, and began walking back.

Once we reached the Navy Yard, we were faced with a challenge, albeit a minor one. They have pretty good security there, and we were trying to avoid going through the "appropriate" channels. Those are so boring, you know? Unfortunately, a twelve- foot stone wall doesn't actually do that much against us. So, if you're scared of us (which you probably should be) and think a wall around your house will protect you, you might want to think again.

After avoiding the guards (which wasn't too difficult), we found Abby's lab windows. Max tapped on the window, and I could hear Abby's shriek of surprise through the glass. I smiled at whoever was in the lab at the time, then followed Max to the door that opened. I heard her stepping up to each member of the flock in turn, and I stiffened when I felt Abby hug me. I could just imagine the look on Fang's face when he received his hug.

"I'm sooo glad you guys are all right!" she said frantically. "I walked into the director's office, and there was glass and blood, like, everywhere! Not that blood freaks me out, because it doesn't. I mean, I'm a forensic scientist, and a forensic scientist who gets freaked out by blood is kind of like a mountain climber who's afraid of heights, or a vegan who owns a dairy ranch. But still! I was scared for you guys, and then Gibbs and Tony and everybody was just staring out the window and they wouldn't listen to me (I think Tony might have been in shock?) but then they finally told me what had happened, and I was like ZOMG! and they said you were totally badass against the big wolfy things that wanted to kill you, except I don't understand why anyone would want to kill you! Cause you guys seem really cool, except Tony's a little bit scared of you? And I think that Jenny is, too, even though she would never admit it. Not that Tony would admit it, but even he would say it before Jenny would, cause she's all, you know, director-y and stuff, but-"

"Take a breath, Abs," Gibbs advised, as he entered the room, followed by one person. The shoes sounded like McGee, maybe. "You kids all right?"

"We're fine," Max responded. Fang whispered "It's Gibbs and McGee," to me, confirming my original suspicions. I thanked him softly.

"So, Arizona?" Max asked, never one to waste words.

"We'll be heading out at 0730 tomorrow," McGee said. Then, as if embarrassed, he added "0730 means-"

"7:30 a.m.," Max cut in. "Or 1230 Zulu, if you prefer."

"Show-off," Gazzy muttered.

"How do you know Zulu time?" Gibbs asked, sounding interested.

"Well, Agent Gibbs, there's this new thing they've invented," Max told him. "It's called Google."

"Oh, and Yahoo," Gazzy suggested.

"I like Bing," Nudge offered.

"Don't forget Wikipedia," I added.

"YouTube."

"Dictionary dot com."

"Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase home-schooled," Max concluded.

Gibbs didn't respond for a moment. Max had that effect on people. Of course, he might have been trying to figure out what Google and all the other stuff was. I couldn't imagine him as particularly tech-savvy, for some reason. After a few seconds, he continued. "You can stay at a safe house for the night."

"Could we stay here?" Max asked.

"Boss, that might actually be a good idea," McGee said tentatively. "The Navy Yard is secure, and we could stay at the office with them."

After a beat, Gibbs said "McGee, you and Ziva go home, get some sleep, pack a bag. Be back in-" he paused, perhaps to check his watch- "ten hours to leave for Arizona."

"On it, boss," McGee said, and I heard him leave the room and the elevator door ding.

Max then gave directions to the flock: "No one goes anywhere alone. We stay in pairs at all times." I nodded and assumed that the others were doing the same. "If anything goes wrong while we're still in D.C., we disappear and meet up again where we slept last night."

"Which is?" Gibbs asked.

"Sorry, Gibbsy," Max said, not sounding sorry at all. "The fewer people who know where we're going, the better."

"Fair enough," Gibbs admitted. "If you kids want to go back upstairs, get some sleep or something-"

"Gibbs," Abby said with a nervous tone that worried me.

"Oh, right," he said, as if remembering something. "Nudge, stay here for a minute? Preferably alone?"

"All right," Nudge responded, sounding puzzled.

"We're staying in pairs," Max reminded him. "Iggy, stay with her." I nodded and put my hand on Nudge's shoulder protectively. The rest of the flock left, with Angel sending me a thought message: _If anything goes wrong, let me know and I'll tell Max._

"So what's up?" Nudge asked, a barely perceptible tremor of fear in her voice.

"Um…" Abby began. "I extracted DNA from one of your hairs I found in the clasp of the collar you tried on."

"Okay. You already know that I'm a bird kid. Is there something else in my DNA that I don't know about?" Nudge questioned. "Like, am I part tiger or something? That would be so cool!"

"No, you're not tiger, but…Ducky found bird feathers in the victim's throat," Abby continued.

"The victim being Jeb?" I asked, to clarify.

"Yeah. And I extracted DNA from the feathers, too. And the two samples of DNA…" Abby sounded very uncomfortable, "it was a match."

"So you're saying that my feathers were in Jeb's throat?" Nudge asked, sounding horrified.

"Now how would those get there?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know! I haven't even seen Jeb for, like…how long has it been, Iggy? A month, month and a half? But it's been a while!"

"What are you saying?" I challenged Gibbs. Nudge was annoying sometimes, but she was my sister (well, sort of), and he was scaring the crap out of her.

"I'm saying that you killed Jeb Batchelder."

**A/N: Oh, snap! Fortunately for all of you, my winter break is coming up soon, so I should be able to write plenty during that. If I don't make another update by then, though, happy holidays and a happy new year to all of you! Review please! That will be your Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/Diwali/winter solstice/whatever else you may celebrate present to me! Thank you!**


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11: In Which Max is Paranoid and Angel is a Creepy Child- What's New?

**A/N: Hello all! Hope your holiday is going well. With the last update, I had thought of doing some sort of special speech or something, it being the tenth chapter and all. It slipped my mind, but I shall give it now. If you are not interested in my speech/babbling, just ignore the next paragraph.**

***deep breath* This fanfic has come a long way from where it originated- a torn-up notebook I found at the bottom of my backpack. As soon as I began writing it, it became a frantic race to keep it out of the hands of my friend/archenemy (I'm still not sure which), who wanted to read it. I'm not sure why he wanted to read it, seeing as he didn't watch NCIS or read MR, but he did. This has gone from me scribbling random ideas during homeroom to this. Seeing people who actually put this story on alert and tell me lovely things in reviews…it makes me so happy. I want to thank you all for making me feel like special. I know you probably all just read this because you're bored, but it gives me little bits of hope on gloomy days. Thank you for my bits of hope. And RFJ, wherever you are, eat your bloody heart out.**

**Thank you to my reviewers: illuvcoffee123, GardevoirLove4ever, Vincent, probieprincess, Kali3110, BlackAngleGirl, CharmedGirl14, snowflake13300, and WiseGirl3. On with the show!**

Tony:

As McGee and Ziva left, the kids sprawled out around the bullpen. Angel curled up into a small ball next to her brother, who was already dead to the world on the floor behind Ziva's desk. Max took McGee's chair, with Fang lying beside her on the floor. I expected Max to try to sleep, but she kept her eyes wide open, paying attention to everything that was going on around her.

"You should sleep," I advised her.

"I can't. I've got first watch," she explained, as if it were obvious.

"What?"

"It's nothing against you," she assured me. "It's just something we've always done. None of us ever feel safe sleeping unless another of us is awake."

"Nothing's going to happen to you," I told her, wondering why these kids were so paranoid.

"You don't know that," she said. "Anything could-"

"Max!" Angel called, sitting up.

There was a moment's pause, then Max screamed "WHAT?" and started sprinting towards the stairs. Her yell had woken the others, and they instantly stood up, ready to face anything.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I raced to follow Max. I grabbed my phone and hit the speed dial on my phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs," the familiar voice came.

"Boss, I think you've got incoming," I told him. I was pretty sure that Max was headed towards the two missing members of her flock.

I heard some odd muffled noises, then a loud thunk. "Boss, you really need to stop dropping your phone on the floor," I said, knowing he wouldn't hear me. Ending the call, I continued running towards Abby's lab. I could hear the other kids behind me. Suddenly, Fang's long legs and incredible respiratory system overtook me. I grit my teeth and pushed harder- I didn't want to be shown up by a fourteen-year-old kid- but he was a speedy little sucker and kept about three strides ahead of me, even when I was going as fast as I could. I could hear Angel and Gazzy gaining on me, too.

When I hit the right floor, I expected to see a fight going on. There was a fight, but it seemed to be verbal. Iggy, Fang, and Max were standing protectively in front of Nudge. Abby was hovering against the back wall, and Gibbs was looking very menacing, his phone still open on Abby's desk.

"Nudge didn't kill anyone," Max growled.

"Then how do you explain her feathers being in Batchelder's throat?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm telling you, someone must have planted those!" Max exclaimed. "Why would Nudge kill Jeb?"

"More important question," I interrupted. "What just happened?"

"Your boss thinks Nudge killed Jeb," Fang told me coldly, without taking his eyes off Gibbs.

"No, I mean how did Max know what happened?"

"I was going to ask you that, DiNozzo," Gibbs cut in. I told Gibbs and Abby what had happened in the bullpen.

"How did you know, Angel?" Gibbs addressed the six-year-old.

"I dunno," she said, keeping her eyes to the ground.

"That's not a very good answer," I said, reminding myself that I was talking to a child. "How did you know what was going on?"

"That's none of your business," Max snarled.

"It sure as hell is my business," Gibbs replied, his tone matching hers.

"Hey, watch your language," Iggy remarked. "There are children here."

"Iggy, I've heard a lot worse than that," Angel remarked. "Especially when you saw that guy in a certain western state playing tonsil tennis with a certain girl in said state…"

"Angel, if you bring up that guy who took Ella to the Spring Fling one more time, I will never make you a cake ever again."

Angel shut her mouth, but she was grinning at her ability to push her sort-of-brother's buttons with such ease. I was very curious about this Ella person (Iggy's girlfriend?) but knew that this was not the time to ask.

Instead, I knelt down, putting myself at Angel's level. "Angel, I need to know how you knew what was going on down here. You're not going to be in trouble, I just need to know."

She glanced at me, then her eyes flicked upwards toward Max. There was a tense silence for a few seconds, then Angel returned her gaze to me. "Does it really matter?" she asked, her voice as smooth as honey.

I started to argue that it did matter, but the more I thought about it, it really didn't matter. Who even cared how she knew? It wasn't that big of a deal, really.

"Yes, it matters," I heard Gibbs say. Looking into Angel's eyes, though, I knew Gibbs was wrong. He was totally overreacting. Angel was so young, so innocent. She couldn't have any sort of ulterior motive, right? And it didn't matter how she knew what had happened three stories below her, or how she had conveyed that knowledge to Max without any words. It was just something that had happened. No biggie.

"Boss, it doesn't really matter," I tried to convince Gibbs.

He regarded me oddly, like I had just grown a second head. "DiNozzo?"

"I mean…" I looked back at Angel. She nodded encouragingly. "Why do we need to know?"

"DiNozzo, are you okay?"

"Yeah, boss. I'm just saying…" I was at a loss for words, and turned back to Angel for help. She looked up at Gibbs, paused, then screeched. She recoiled away from him, as if he had shocked her.

"Angel?" Max said, sounding more frightened than I'd ever heard her.

"Max, I…I can't. It's like punching a brick wall. I'm sorry, I just…can't."

"Can't what, Angel?" Gibbs asked gently.

She ignored him. "It's not like it was before. With ter Borcht, I just couldn't get in. With him, it's…different." She was trembling, I noticed, and she kept glancing around, as if it hurt her to focus on any one thing for too long.

Max swiftly crossed the room and took Angel's hand in both of her own. "Angel, I'm right here. It's okay," she murmured comfortingly.

"I'm trying, Max, I'm still trying," Angel told Max.

"No, Angel, sweetie, don't keep trying if it's not working," Max begged the younger girl. "It's okay, it's okay, you don't have to…"

Suddenly, Angel stopped shaking. She stood as still as a rock, staring straight down at the ground.

"Angel?" Max said again. By this time, Fang, Iggy, and Nudge had joined the small huddle around Angel.

"I've got it, Max," Angel announced softly, and she angled her head upwards to look Gibbs in the eye. "Why do you keep that so locked away?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked her, but she kept her eyes focused on Gibbs.

"You work so hard to keep your walls up, and all for that. Why?"

"What the hell is she talking about?" I asked Max.

"Good question," she replied. "Angel, what is it?"

Angel broke through the small circle we had made around her and approached Gibbs. In a trancelike state, she asked him, "Are you that scared of anyone finding out about it?"

Gibbs paused for a moment. When he spoke, his voice sounded weak, like a teenage boy whose voice kept breaking: "Angel, with me."

"We're not being separated," Max warned.

"It's all right, Max," Angel said. "We're safe here."

"We're not safe anywhere," Max countered.

"We're safe here," Angel repeated, following Gibbs into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, Max turned to stare at me. "What the hell is going on?"

"You tell me," I replied. "What was Angel doing?"

When Max hesitated, Gazzy reminded her, "Angel said we could trust them. She said we were safe here."

"She was reading his mind," Max admitted after some deliberation.

"She was what?"

"She reads minds. She does that. It's a bit annoying, actually, but we love her anyways."

"She can control 'em, too," Gazzy blurted. Then, he blushed. "Was that still supposed to be a secret?"

"It was," Max told him.

He winced apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Max said. "They would have figured it out eventually. Yes, Angel can read and control minds. We've all got some superpower besides the wings. I can fly super-fast, Fang can disappear if he stays still long enough, Iggy is a ridiculously good cook slash pyromaniac, and he has enhanced senses, which kind of makes up for the whole blindness thing. Nudge can hack computers and feel emotions through objects, and Angel can breathe underwater and talk to fish, as well as the aforementioned psychic stuff."

"What about my superpower?" Gazzy asked, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"That's not a superpower," Nudge insisted vehemently, and I got the feeling that this was an ongoing debate.

"Sure it is!"

"What is it?" Abby asked.

"Don't you dare demonstrate!" Max instructed Gazzy. "Suffice it to say that there's a reason we call him the Gasman."

"If you don't get it, I can show-"

"No!" we all yelled.

"So what did Angel see in Gibbs' mind that made her go all wacky?" Iggy asked.

"I thought she said that she couldn't get into Gibbs' head," Fang commented.

"She couldn't, but…" Max shook her head. "She must have seen something, and she managed to fight her way in. Question is, what did she see?"

"And I think that question goes to you, seeing as you know Gibbs' mind better than we do," Iggy said, turning his face towards me. I still had trouble believing he was blind sometimes.

"I don't know-"

"What is the most horrific thing in Gibbs' memory?" Max asked.

I instantly knew what Angel had seen, but I hesitated; I wasn't sure if I should tell them about that. Acknowledging that they had shared a secret with me and that I should reciprocate, I answered, "His first wife and daughter." I looked at Abby, and she nodded in agreement.

"His _first_ wife? How many has he had?" Iggy asked.

"Four. The last three ended in divorce. The first one and their daughter were killed by a Mexican drug dealer in 1991."

"That's horrible," Nudge gasped.

"How old was his daughter?" Max wondered.

"She was eight."

"If Angel saw that…seeing someone her brother's age dying…" Fang didn't finish his sentence, but we could all imagine how that would traumatize her.

"Well, I think we know what Angel saw." Max's tone was all business. "Where did Gibbs take her?"

"The elevator," I answered.

"Well, yeah, I kind of figured that. Where did they go after they left the elevator?"

"Gibbs uses the elevator as a conference room. There are no security cameras," Abby explained. "When they're done, they'll probably come back here."

As if on cue, the elevator dinged and brought its passengers back to Abby's lab. When Gibbs noticed all of us staring, he asked, "What?"

"Care to explain what just went on?" I asked, although I already knew.

"Angel reads minds," Gibbs stated bluntly.

"Max told us. Anything else that we should know?"

"She read my mind."

"That's so cool," Abby said, awestruck. "You know, I used to not believe in psychics and ESP and that kind of stuff."

"What changed?" Max took the bait.

"I met Gibbs."

Gibbs' phone rang just then. "Yeah, Gibbs." I recognized the director's voice, but couldn't make out any words. "Jen-" Gibbs started to say, before I heard the phone click off.

He told us the news. We all stared in disbelief.

"Can I be the first to say crap?" Max asked.

**A/N: Muahahaha, another cliffy! These are quite fun. Please excuse any typos, as I was trying to get the sound recognition software stuff on my computer to type for me, but it's not very smart. In other news, my school's winter break has ended, and finals are coming up soon, so I may not update for a while. And I know that I included something from the fourth book (kudos if you caught it), but I wanted Fang to have a superpower, because I didn't want him to be left out. So…yeah. Read and review, and you will make my day!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Howdy! Sorry this one took me so long to update. I have plenty of excuses, but they probably wouldn't interest you to hear. So I will just apologize, and hope my loyal readers will forgive me. *hangs head in shame and begs forgiveness* Thank you to my reviewers: PeppyGothChick, BlackAngleGirl, Lila, CharmedGirl14, GardevoirLove4ever, Separate Entity, and Vincent. You all make me happy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.**

_Dramatic Mark Harmon voiceover: Previously on Navy Cops and Bird Kids_

"_Yeah, Gibbs." I recognized the director's voice, but couldn't make out any words. "Jen-" Gibbs started to say, before I heard the phone click off. _

_He told us the news. We all stared in disbelief._

"_Can I be the first to say crap?" Max asked._

Nudge's POV

"Jenny's been kidnapped?" Gazzy asked incredulously.

"The School says that they'll only release her if we turn the Flock over," Gibbs said, not making eye contact with any member of the Flock.

"I don't think they'd really kill her…" Abby said. "I mean, aren't they pretending to be the good guys? Killing the Director of a federal agency doesn't sound like a good way to keep a low profile."

"They would." Max's tone was all business. "If she didn't serve their purposes, they'd kill her in a heartbeat. Or worse."

"So, Max, what do you suppose we do?" Gibbs asked. "Kill Jen, or send you back to the School?"

Max was silent for a moment. "How much time do we have?"

"They said they'd call back in six hours with further instructions."

"All right. I'll start trying to run a trace on the call," Abby said, grabbing Gibbs' cell, plugging it into her computer, and getting started.

"I'll pull security footage from around the Navy Yard, see if I can find any leads there," Tony announced, already halfway out the door.

That left us awkwardly staring at each other; only Max had the guts to even look at Gibbs.

"Abs, can you keep an eye on the kids?" Gibbs finally asked.

"Sure, Gibbs. I'm a good baby-sitter," Abby replied, not taking her eyes off her computer. "Can you hit my stereo on your way out?"

As Gibbs hit the Play button, her stereo started blasting music. Gibbs said something—I couldn't quite hear him over the music—and turned the volume way down.

"C'mon, Gibbs," Abby pleaded. "It was just getting to the god part!"

We all exclaimed something to the effect of "No, it's fine like this!" Super hearing plus loud music equals a headache.

Abby looked grumpy; Gibbs said something to her in sign language. She signed back with an indignant expression.

"What's happening?" Iggy asked.

"Sign language," Angel said. "And I'm with you, Gibbs. Abby's ears _are _broken."

"You know sign?" Abby asked eagerly. Angel raised an eyebrow, and Abby realized how stupid her question was. "Right. Mind-reading."

Gibbs grinned, then headed upstairs. As soon as he was gone, Abby set some ground rules. "You are not to touch any of my equipment without my permission. No mind-reading or mimicry of anyone outside the flock. No fighting, period. Gazzy, I don't think I need to tell you, but I will: No. No. Triple no. If you need to leave this lab, you tell me first and you use the buddy system."

An hour later, we were bored as hell. We all had our wings stretched out, which greatly limited our room. Between Angel and I, we knew about three hand-clapping games, which got old really fast. Gazzy and Fang were asleep, Iggy was eating a bag of pretzels (that he probably stole from a vending machine), and Max was pretending to read. I knew she was pretending because she hadn't turned a page in the past forty minutes. Also, she was reading one of Abby's technical books, and I had a feeling that Max understood maybe every third word.

Abby was still working at her computer, but she was moving a lot more slowly than before, and her expression looked pained. Angel had started drawing on a piece of printer paper and didn't seem interested in playing any more hand games, so I slid to the side of the room, where I could just barely see what she was doing with the trace on Gibbs' phone.

"May I?" I asked, pointing to her other computer. When she looked at me dubiously, I added, "I'm good with computers."

"Sure," she said, clearly thinking that there was no harm I could do. "The number's registered to a burn phone, so that's no good. I'm trying to backtrace the signal, but these guys bounced it all over the world."

"I've tried to hack the School before, but they have really, really good firewalls. Like, _really_ good. But I've never had a government access computer, 'cause the government is really freaking paranoid about hackers and you can't hack them from a public library computer, which I guess is a good thing, 'cause then a terrorist or something could, like, I don't know, do something bad and kill people. And that wouldn't be good. So…." I trailed off and focused on giving the School's computer system a run for its money. Bit by bit, I needled my way in, bypassing security protocols in seconds that had taken me minutes in the past. Finally, I reached a list of burn phones the School had bought for their employees. "Searching, searching, and…got it!" I exclaimed, finding the number that had called Gibbs on the list.

Abby stared at my computer screen in disbelief. "Damn!" she exclaimed. "Pardon my French."

"Isn't it amazing how many burn phones they have? I mean, I knew they were paranoid, but really? Is it like, he who dies with the most burners wins?"

"I was talking about your mad computer skills," Abby informed me, whistling and giving me a high five. "You're a hacking ninja!"

"Thanks!" I replied proudly. Noticing the rest of the flock was asleep (apparently they trusted me to be on watch), I decided it was time to have a heart-to-heart with Abby. After she called Gibbs, I asked her, "So, are you and McGee…you know…."

"What? No. What?" Abby answered, feigning confusion.

"You two aren't going out? But you'd be so cute together!"

"Well, we're coworkers. That's it," Abby said, in a tone of voice that told me she was trying to convince herself that.

"C'mon, you totally like him! Admit it!"

She blinked several times, then denied it again with a sheepish expression.

"I saw you when Gibbs and Fang were sparring. You have a crush on McGee."

She paused. "You can't tell anyone."

"I won't, but believe me, they already know."

"They do?"

"I think you and McGee were the last ones to figure this out," I told her truthfully.

"Really? Is it that obvious?"

"Seriously, you two have never, like, dated or kissed or anything?"

"Well, there was that one incident involving a search for a psycho and a coffin a couple of years ago, but other than that, no." At my incredulous expression, she added, "Gibbs has a set of rules. Number twelve is never date a coworker."

"Any rules about bird kids?" I asked jokingly.

"Not unless any of you are lawyers," she answered. "So, I've spilt about McGee. What about you?"

"No!" I answered quickly.

"Are you sure? You and Iggy…"

"No! I mean, I love him, and all of the flock, but dating him? It'd be like dating my brother."

"I guess Max and Fang don't have those reservations," Abby suggested slyly.

"No comment. Ask her yourself."

"I'm not asking her, I'm asking you."

We continued chatting about anything and everything until Gibbs came down. We explained how we found the burner, and how we traced its location to a small warehouse district in Alexandria. "Gibbs, I am telling you, I love this girl," Abby said proudly, one arm around my shoulders.

"Then it's a good thing I brought two of these," Gibbs said, holding out a large drink in a red cup in each of his hands.

"Gibbs, you are a god among men," Abby told him, grabbing the drink and taking a long slurp.

I took the other cup and hesitantly took a sip. The drink was sweet, with that fake fruit taste that I love. I drank some more. Through my peripheral vision, I noticed the rest of the flock waking up. I was more interested, however, in the flashing lights on one of Abby's machines. "ZOMG! Those lights are so pretty! They're like little Christmas lights! I totally love flying over places at Christmas time 'cause there's all sorts of lights up EVERYWHERE! It's so cool! It kinda looks like those little arrow things on dance video games, that tell you where to step? You know?" I started dancing, trying to match my footsteps to the flashing lights.

"What was in that drink?" Iggy asked Abby.

"Caffeine…" she answered nervously.

"Good God!" the flock screamed in unison.

**Ha ha, Nudge with Caf-Pow. And I hope you all are very concerned about Jenny's welfare. *sarcasm* I honestly haven't decided if I should kill her or not. Input would be appreciated on this fairly important decision. Review please! Thanks!**


End file.
